


The Onoka Legacy

by Khaliban



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Digital Art, Multi, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2019-07-18 17:56:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 35,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16123751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khaliban/pseuds/Khaliban
Summary: A consolidation of the disparate storylines to construct a cohesive narative, as well as a reimagining of some game elements to match my personal interpretation of Star Wars canon. Expect the occasional spoiler or divergence from the game.





	1. The Assassin

The Twi'lek assassin left the Korriban Academy an hour before dawn, her passing detected by only the strongest Sith instructors. She pulled her low light goggles over her eyes and ran to the base of the ridge that circled the Valley of Tombs. In jumps of three or four meters, she scaled the ridge and reached the top just as the sky turned gray. She ran along the ridge with practiced silence, leaving no tracks, not even a wisp of dust, to prove she'd been there. She stopped across from the tomb of Naga Sadow and searched for a point that gave her a clear view of the path from the tomb to the gates of the Academy. The acolyte assassin laid down, pushed the goggles up, and took macrobinoculars from her belt. She rested the binoculars on a convenient stone and waited for her target.

She had watched the other acolyte for five years, in visions or from the shadows, but had never risked such a close approach. He might sense her at this distance, especially if she focused on him, but she couldn't help it. For five years, her visions of him were the same, darkness and death and war. For five years, his future remained a rigid, blood-soaked path. But that had changed. A new path had appeared the night before, it's future gray with occasional hints of warmth. The original path remained a possibility, but the new path demanded a response, even one as dangerous as this.

The acolyte focused the binoculars on the gates of the Academy and hunted for her target. She sensed him before he appeared. The sky was bright with the new day, but the Academy gates were still in shadow when the dark blue Twi'lek warrior emerged. He'd grown since she'd seen him last, and was probably as tall as his brother. Half a galaxy away, and they still competed. The hard muscles beneath his shirt showed he trained as much as ever. And, he hadn't removed the scar; a long, deep cut down his right eye from forehead to cheek that somehow avoided damaging the eye itself. She expected arrogance in his eyes, confidence at the least, but found irritation almost to the point of rage.

Another Twi'lek walked at his side, a girl dressed as a slave. She wore a shock collar on her neck and handcuffs, as if the collar weren't enough. She was pretty, but she tried to hide it. She might be beautiful with the right clothes and some meat on her bones. Slaves were usually better fed than that, suggesting she was a former slave recaptured. She spoke to the warrior as she walked, and, with every word, his irritation deepened.

The assassin zoomed in on the face of the girl. One of the Sith instructors had told the assassin to cultivate mundane skills. People expected force sensitives to use the Force for everything. If they were right, the advantage was theirs. If they were wrong, the advantage was yours. Knowledge was power. To that end, the assassin had learned lip-reading.

"—a scarf?" the slave said.

"A what?" the warrior replied. His lekku twitched. A line of spots, like the scales of a serpent, ran down each tail from base to tip, and their movements mimicked a wary snake.

"A scarf," she said. "So my lekku won't burn. Or lotion, if you have any."

"No." He closed his eyes and took a breath. "We won't be outside very long, and you're dark skinned. You don't burn easily anyway."

The girl looked around and saw a group of k'lor'slugs squirming over a fresh kill.

"Are those things in there?" she asked.

"I thought you were in the tomb already," the warrior said.

"I was caught at the entrance," the girl replied.

"No, they're not in the tomb." he said. "The walls are shielded."

"Does that mean it's safe?"

He shook his head. "Failed acolytes hide in there."

"Why?"

"It's safe from the k'lor'slugs."

"Why not go back to the Academy?" she asked.

"They'd be killed," he said.

She stopped and stared at him. "You people are nasty."

He closed his eyes again and took a breath. "We don't want weak Sith Lords."

"Do they just live there?"

"No," he said. "They can be reinstated if they kill a current acolyte."

"Like you?"

"Yes."

"What about me?" she asked.

"They'll kill you too, just in case."

"Oh." She looked down at the k'lor'slugs again. "Could I get my guns back?"

 _What?_ the assassin thought.

The warrior spun toward her and started yelling. He faced away from the assassin, but she could guess his words. She expected the slave to shrink away. The warrior was nearly a head taller and probably weighed twice as much, but the girl stood firm and glared at him.

When his tirade ended, she yelled, "I'm the only one that can get you into that tomb! You don't just flip a switch! It's four combinations, and you turn them blind! If you get any of them wrong, they cut your hand off! If you want that artifact, you need to find some way to keep me alive, or give me back my guns!"

" _I_ will keep you alive," he said. The assassin could only see half his face, but he spoke the words slowly enough.

The slave sneered like she didn't believe him and looked away.

He nodded at the k'lor'slugs. "I've killed a group of six of those by myself."

"The larvae or the big ones?" the girl asked.

"The big ones."

"Oh," she said. "The acolytes in the tomb can't do that?"

He took another breath. "They're failed for a reason."

"Fine," she said. "I think it'd be better if I had my guns, but fine."

"You're a prisoner!" he yelled. "You don't get guns!" He panted at her through gritted teeth.

"Do it!" she said.

"Do what?"

"Shock me!"

"What?"

"Shock me! That's what you Sith do!"

"I can't," he said. "I didn't bring the controller."

"You forgot it?" she said with a laugh.

"I _chose_ not to bring it," he said. "I don't hurt women that way."

"How do you hurt women?" she asked.

He grabbed her arm suddenly, and she gasped in shock. He looked at his hand, let go, and stepped away.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Did I hurt you?"

"No." She watched him cautiously. "Sorry I said that."

He nodded and said, "Let's go."

When he turned away, the slave looked at his back.

Was she checking out his ass? the assassin thought. No, she was looking at his food pack.

Sure enough, the girl said, "Could I get something to eat?"

The warrior turned toward her, facing away from the assassin again.

"They didn't feed me very much," the girl said.

The warrior stepped back and looked her up and down.

She scowled at him and said, "What was that?!"

He responded and the girl said, "That was not 'verifying my claim'!"

The assassin turned away and laughed. She forced down the laughter and refocused the binoculars.

"Don't worry," the warrior said, turning back to the path. "I don't want to cut myself."

The girl glared at him again. "Does that mean I'm right?"

He sighed and gave her his canteen and two food sticks.

"Eat slowly," he said. "Maybe it will shut you up."

"Thank you," she said, obviously trying not to sneer. She nibbled on one of the food sticks as they walked. She looked at the handcuffs, and said, "Could I get these off?"

The warrior turned and stared at her.

"I need them off to open the tomb," she said.

"We're not there yet."

She scowled again and returned to the food sticks.

When they reached the tomb, he told her to wait while he checked the entrance. "And, remember," he said. "That collar has a tracker on it."

"I know," she said.

Once he was out of sight, she shoved the rest of the food stick in her mouth, chewed fast and washed it down. She bit off half of the second food stick and was still chewing ravenously when he returned. She paused, swallowed slowly and started nibbling again. The warrior sighed, said something the assassin missed, and motioned toward himself. The girl held out her hands, and he removed the handcuffs and gave her his remaining food sticks.

"Don't eat so fast you'll choke," he said. He motioned toward a boulder, and she sat down.

After the third food stick, she looked at the tomb and said, "You're going to kill me in there, aren't you? That's what you do, right?"

"No," he said. "I don't punish good behavior."

"I thought you were Sith."

"There's more than one kind of Sith." He watched her eat. "If you do a good job, I'll buy you dinner. Something really good."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'm serious," he said.

She shrugged. "It's not like it matters. The Empire will kill me for what I did."

"Why did you do it?" he asked. "I'm sure you could find easier targets on Nar-Shaddaa."

"Reputation," she said. "I'm one of the best thieves you'll meet. I mean that. But, people on Nar-Shaddaa see a Twi'lek girl. Former slave. Should be a slave. Whatever. Stealing an artifact from Korriban would make my reputation. I could maybe sign on with a smuggler. One of the good ones. There are decent smugglers, you know."

He hid a smile from her and said, "I know."

"It's a chance to see the galaxy, and get enough money to... do stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" he asked.

She looked away.

"Personal stuff," he said. "I get it." He watched her a little longer. "How did you do it?"

She looked at him, considering her answer, and seemed to realize it didn't matter anymore. "I dressed like a slave. That was easy to do," she said. "I found a guy selling an Imperial toolbox. On Nar-Shaddaa, you don't ask how they got it. I sliced past the security at an Imperial base. Once I was inside, I was another slave. If anyone asked, I told them I had to pull something dead out of an engine. I found a shuttle headed here, and snuck into the storage bay."

"No one noticed?" he asked.

"I told you. I'm good. I sliced the scanners to play on a loop and settled in."

"What was the toolbox for?"

"My guns," she said. "Armor. Zero waste food packs. Urine recyc." She made a sour face. "And here, I was a slave again. I made it that far." She pointed at the ground in front of the entrance.

"That was your mistake," he said. "Slaves don't go into a tomb alone. You should have dressed like an acolyte."

"Different rules," she said with a shrug.

"Impressive," he said. "But, you're right, they would kill you for that. It begs the question, why _are_ you helping me?"

"I went through a lot stealing that map," she said. "And spent two months learning those combinations. I want to see what's inside that tomb. I want to see the artifact before I die."

He considered her, and his eyes softened. "It's the lightsaber of Naga Sadow, one of the most powerful Sith Lords ever," he told her. "Valuable to a Sith Lord or a collector. Not something you could sell easily."

"No," she said. "But think of the reputation."

"Very true," he said. He turned away, obviously thinking. "I won't let them kill you."

She looked up. "How are you going to do that?"

"I'll tell Baras you're useful to me."

She looked at him sideways. "What does that mean?"

He watched her for a moment. "It means, do a good job."

She thought about it. "You could be lying."

"Possible lie or definite demise. Which do you pick?"

She bit into the last food stick. "I hope the dinner's not a lie."

He turned away from her and scanned the valley as if looking for something. The girl looked him up and down and returned to her food.

The assassin smiled. _That_ was checking out his ass.

"We're being watched," he said without turning.

"We are?" she said.

"I might have noticed earlier, if I hadn't been distracted."

She rolled her eyes. "Do you know who it is?"

"Probably an ally of Vemrin's. He's another acolyte. He thinks he's my rival." He continued to scan the valley.

"They're probably on that ridge," she said. "It'd give you the best view."

He looked at her, and she pointed to the ridge where the assassin laid. He examined the ridge and nodded.

The assassin smiled again. I like this girl.

The warrior said, "Tell me about the locks."

"Four combination locks," the girl said. "They're hidden behind statues or pedestals, recessed into the stone. They have photo receptors, so you can't use a light or a camera."

"Was that part about the blade true?"

"Yes," she said. "That's why I spent two months practicing." She finished the last food stick. "I need to do them in a specific order, and they're on a timer. I have thirty minutes from the time the first combination is done to finish all four and open the door to the tomb. Otherwise, the system resets, and we wait half an hour to start again."

He smiled. "And, you thought I was mean."

"Do all Sith go through this for a lightsaber?"

"No," he said. "We build our lightsabers. This is my last trial before becoming an apprentice. It will prove my worth, and Baras can say he has the strongest apprentice."

"In other words, reputation."

He smiled again. "Yes. Reputation."

She stood up and brushed away some crumbs.

"Do I get a cut?" she asked.

He stared at her for a while.

"How do you go from 'happy to be alive' to 'getting a cut'?"

She shrugged. "I was just asking."

"You're getting dinner instead of execution. Appreciate it."

She shrugged again. He motioned toward the tomb. When she walked past, he held back, checked out her ass, and followed her in.

The assassin turned away and laughed, as if she might be caught. Something had definitely changed. She stood and stretched and thought, You may have just met your match.


	2. The Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They enter the Tomb.

Not a bad ass, Mau'te thought as he caught up to her. Too skinny, but she had potential. No, what was he thinking? Baras expected him to kill her. The Imperial officers expected it. Why did he promise to keep her alive? That was stupid.

Mau'te sensed someone approach. He shoved the girl into the shadows with him. Another acolyte passed on his way out of the tomb. Not failed, so not a threat. He turned to the girl. Vette was it? Not a Twi'lek name, but this girl had layers of history. She glared at him, then at his arm across her chest, then at him again. He rolled his eyes and pulled his arm away.

They moved slowly while their eyes adjusted to the luminescent crystals embedded in the walls. He turned toward her to tell her to keep moving, because he couldn't hear her footsteps. But, she was moving, in complete silence, in a stone tomb that seemed to amplify every echo. Not bad. Not a bad profile either. You know what they say about girls with mottled lekku. No. Stop it. She had to die.

Vette stopped suddenly and put her hand on Mau'te's chest. She looked around, getting her bearings, and pointed down a passageway. He looked at her hand on his chest then at her. She yanked her hand away as if he'd burned her. He held in the laugh but couldn't hide his smile. She scowled at him and pointed down the passage again.

They continued like that, pausing at an intersection while Vette oriented herself or backing into the shadows to let a failed acolyte pass. On some of the more persistent acolytes, Mau'te used a mind trick to confuse them or push them along. At last, Vette stopped at one of the many statues scattered through the tomb. She knelt down, took a few breaths, pushed her hand behind the statue and pulled it back immediately. She took another breath, swallowed hard, and moved her hand toward the statue again.

This would never do, Mau'te thought.

He touched Vette's shoulder, and she looked up at him. Her anxiety filled her eyes and flowed to him through his touch. He didn't say anything, but looked within himself instead. He found a moment when his training and practice, thought and action coalesced. He found the sensation where adrenaline elevated and focused but before it surrendered to recklessness. He passed the sensation to Vette, helping her find a similar moment in her own memory. Her anxiety faded, and her eyes focused. She nodded to Mau'te, and he took his hand away. Vette pushed her hand behind the statue, seemed to feel around for her target, and began.

Mau'te's own anxiety rose at the first click and each click after. They soon came so fast, it sounded like typing. Vette's eyes stared at nothing while she worked, her focus completely inward. Mau'te counted thirty clicks before she stopped. A moment later, he heard a single loud click, and he held his breath. Vette smiled and pulled her hand out, holding it up like a prize. Mau'te nodded and offered her his hand. She considered it then allowed him to help her up.

Leaning close, he whispered, "Well done."

Vette dropped her jaw in mock surprise, and Mau'te gave her a sour look in return.

He motioned her down the corridor, but she held up her hand then ran a fingertip along the edge of her sleeve. In a moment, she nodded and started down the corridor. He was about to ask, when he remembered the locks were timed. She must have a tactile chronometer sewn into her sleeve. She managed to impress him again.

He wouldn't be the one to kill her. Baras could do it and would probably forget about ten minutes later. Or an Imperial firing squad. But not him. He wouldn't do it. And, she'd have her last meal. Something really--

Mau'te grabbed Vette and pulled her into the shadows just before a group of failed acolytes reached an intersection in front of them. He pressed against the wall, one arm shielding Vette and the other near his vibrosword. Three of the acolytes continued through the intersection, but one held back. The others motioned to him, but he searched the darkness as if listening for something. Mau'te waved his hand within the shadows, and confusion fell over the acolyte's face. He shook his head clear and followed the others.

Mau'te waited, giving the acolyte's some distance, before stepped from the shadows. He expected a scowl from Vette, but she checked her chronometer instead.

"How long?" he whispered.

"Twenty-six minutes," she replied.

They reached the second statue without finding another group. Vette slipped her hand behind the statue without Mau'te's help. He scanned the corridor and tried to keep his mind off the rapid clicking. Thirty-four clicks that time, a pause, a loud click, and she pulled her hand out. She checked her chronometer then held up ten fingers twice and two.

Another group passed them on the way to the next statue, but Mau'te had the method now. He pulled Vette into the shadows, without resistance that time, and waved on the more perceptive acolytes.

They reached the third statue without further incident. Vette watched Mau'te for approval, but he shook his head. An acolyte entered the intersection near the statue. Mau'te raised his hand, but noticed the confused expression on the acolyte's face. The acolyte looked around as he'd forgotten why he was there. He searched each corridor, struggling with the answer, then gave up and left the way he entered.

Mau'te looked at Vette, and the two of them nearly burst into laughter. They turned away to hold it in. When they looked back, they started shaking with silent laughs. Vette tapped her chronometer frantically, and Mau'te nodded, clenching his jaw tight.

Vette knelt next to the statue, took three long breaths to calm herself, and began.

Once the clicking started, the laughter fled Mau'te. He searched the lock mechanism with the Force but found overlapping, unused, or redundant gears designed to confuse his senses. A lock that well designed might detect his search, so he pulled back.

The rapid clicking stopped, a pause, then a loud click, and Vette pulled her hand out.

"Well done," Mau'te said. Vette tried to hide a smile, and Mau'te pretended not to notice. "How long?"

She checked her chronometer and said, "Seventeen minutes."

They were making good time. One combination to go. He didn't need her after that. Baras had told him, once the combinations were done, the door to the tomb opened by turning a simple switch. Mau'te could kill Vette after the fourth lock.

He glanced at her. Pretty, intense, old eyes in a young face. A face that could laugh in the middle of this and work knowing what would happen when she finished.

Baras was wrong. Mau'te would need her if the locks reset.

The last lock was behind an exposed pedestal, not a recessed statue, and stood beneath a luminous crystal.

Mau'te pointed to a shadowed corner with a clear view of the area and whispered, "I'll watch from there."

Vette nodded and moved to the pedestal.

Just as Vette began to work, an acolyte entered the area, searching with the Force. Mau'te tried to confuse his mind, but the acolyte shook it off. Acolytes failed for any number of reasons, including bad luck. Some didn't deserve to fail. Mau'te tried again with a stronger push. The acolyte blinked hard and continued forward. He was soon close enough to hear the clicking. Mau'te tried to make the acolyte think the sound was vermin, but that wouldn't last. The final click would be too loud for Mau'te to cover.

He could let her die. That last click meant she was done. Mau'te could hide himself from the acolyte easily. Any other Sith Lord would leave her to her fate.

The acolyte drew his sword and pushed against Mau'te's influence. Mau'te drew his own sword and thought, stupid little slave girl. Stupid, annoying, pathetic little slave girl! And he charged.


	3. Vette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They complete the mission.

Calm. Stay calm. Six to go. First finger, forward three. Third finger, back two. Stay calm. Second finger, forward one then back four. You did not go through all of this, all of them, all of him, to fail now. Two to go. One. That's it. Vette took a quick breath, grabbed the four cylinders, and pulled. She heard the loud, clear click and yanked her hand out.

She did it. She stared at her shaking hand. They can't take it away from her.

Suddenly, the air wrapped around her like a leather blanket and pulled her two meters across the floor. A moment later, a vibrosword struck the pedestal where her head had been.

That son of a bitch! I knew it! No, that's a human.

The failed acolyte turned and attacked Vette, but Mau'te blocked his sword. No, he did more than block it. He knocked it back hard, nearly tearing it from the acolyte's hands. The acolyte tried to recover, but Mau'te never gave him the chance. He struck around or through the acolyte's defenses like fighting a practice dummy. After a few solid hits, Mau'te stabbed the acolyte's chest. The vibrosword overloaded his heart, and switched him off like a light.

Two more acolytes, probably allies of the first, responded to noise. One of them reached Mau'te just as the first acolyte fell and attacked him from behind. Vette tried to call out but didn't have the time. But, it didn't matter. Mau'te swung his sword over his shoulder and blocked the attack blind. Without turning, he kicked his heel straight up into the second acolyte's jaw, knocking him to the ground. The third acolyte swung at Mau'te. He slid out of way, but the second acolyte had time to get to his feet. From there, the fight turned into bad choreography. Mau'te blocked where they were about to attack, struck where an opening was about to appear. He fought as if two opponents didn't count as a challenge, and killed them as if they were less than nothing.

Mau'te returned to Vette and held out his hand. "Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded and let him help her up. The weight of events got to her, and she hugged him, shaking, then gasped and stepped back. She looked away from him and tried to pretend she hadn't just done that.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked.

"What?" she said.

"When I pushed you."

"Oh," she said. "A little. Better than getting my head caved in."

"I'm sorry anyway," he said. "How long have we got?"

She checked her chronometer. "Eleven minutes." Based on her time at the other locks, he killed them in under two minutes. She wasn't sure if she should be frightened or impressed.

"Plenty of time," he said. He started towards the last chamber.

"What about them?" Vette asked.

"The tradition is to leave them as a warning to others."

Right. No more Mister nice Sith. Just do it. Get it over with.

"Let's go, Vette," he said.

She nodded and followed him.

Half way there, he stopped and pulled her close.

"Calm down," he told her. "You're screaming your emotions. The acolytes can sense it."

She nodded.

"I didn't just save your life to kill you later."

Oh, yeah. That's a good point.

"Sorry," she said and forced herself to relax.

They dodged one more group before the final chamber, and entered the area cautiously.

"This is it," Vette said. "The secret entrance is here. Just let me get my bearings."

"Move fast," Mau'te whispered. "Someone is here."

Vette reached the wall and began searching for the switch but kept one eye on Mau'te. He had moved to the center of chamber and was searching the walls for enemies. He looked at Vette for a moment, and that's when Vemrin attacked.

Vemrin leapt from the shadows, swinging at Mau'te's head. Mau'te dodged out of the way and kicked Vemrin in the chest, knocking him back. Vemrin rolled back and recovered fast, and the two Sith started circling each other.

"You need better allies," Mau'te said. "I sensed your companion on the way in."

Vemrin's eyes narrowed, but he covered it with a smile. "I'll chastise him after I'm done with you."

He has no idea, Vette thought. I guess Mau'te has more than one enemy.

"Keep working, slave," Vemrin said. "I want the entrance uncovered by the time I finish killing your new master."

Fuck you, she thought.

They looked at her sharply then returned to each other.

Oh, right. Mind reading. Forgot about that one.

"Becoming Baras's apprentice is my destiny," Vemrin said.

"Your destiny is to be forgotten a month from now," Mau'te replied.

"My passions run deeper than yours," Vemrin snarled. "I am the true essence of what it is to be Sith."

"I doubt the true essence of Sith is to be long winded and predictable," Mau'te said.

"My legacy has suffered long enough," Vemrin began. "After today--"

Mau'te attacked before Vemrin could finish.

Vemrin was no failed acolyte. Even Vette could see that. The fight didn't have the bad choreography look. Strike and counterstrike were more balanced and much faster. Vemrin nearly hit Mau'te twice and blocked most of his attacks. But not all. Vemrin started arrogant, but turned angry then cautious when his attacks failed. He might have reached fear if Mau'te had given him the chance, but he weakened Vemrin, forced an opening, and struck, faster than Vette could follow. Vemrin died before she knew he'd been hit.

"Wow, nice work," Vette said.

"Find the entrance!"

"I already have!" She pressed the final switch, and the wall rumbled open.

"Why didn't you do this earlier?" Mau'te asked as the sections of wall slid out of sight.

"It only stays open for a minute."

"Oh," he said. "Of course."

"And I don't know how to open it from that side." The map had been very vague about that.

"You won't need to," Mau'te said. "I'll have the lightsaber."

They entered the passageway and watched as the walls closed behind them.

"What if you can't get the lightsaber?" she asked.

"We die of dehydration."

Now he tells me.

He put a hand on her shoulder. "You won't die here, Vette. And, I won't let Baras kill you. You did very well today. I told you, I don't punish success."

She didn't believe it. There was only one reason he'd want her alive after the door was opened.

"No, Vette," he said. "I won't touch you like that without permission."

"Hey!" she said. "That's rude."

"Sorry, but your thoughts are very loud sometimes."

She gave him a sour look and shrugged his hand away.

"By the way," he said. "One of my instructors has a cybernetic hand. When he heard where I was going, he told me to come back in one piece. I thought I should wait to tell you that."

"Is _every_ conversation with you like this?"

"Like what?"

"Never mind."

"Let's go," he said. "And stay behind me. The tomb will have guardians, but, if you don't attack them, they might not attack you."

"Okay," she said. It might work. He _was_ really good with a sword.

"Thank you."

"Stop that!"

He laughed and shook his head.

"If we make it out of here," he said, "I promise I'll teach you how to hide your thoughts."

"Thanks. What kind of guardians, by the way?"

"Droids, of course," he said. "And something else. You might have made it past the droids. You never would have made it past the something else."

"How do you know?"

He said, "The archive has a record of acolytes that made it into the tomb but never made it out."

"You know all kinds of fun information, don't you?"

"Try thinking about the dinner I'm buying you later."

"You were serious about that? Wow. Okay. So, what can I--"

Mau'te shoved her backwards, knocking her down. Two statues had come to life, and Mau'te had reacted before Vette noticed anything. He blocked the attacks and tore apart the droids as easily as he had the failed acolytes.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked while helping her to her feet.

"Not really." She looked at the droids. "And thanks. Again."

Eight droids later, including four at once, they entered the final chamber. Statues like guardians lined the path to the sarcophagus. Flickering shadows on the wall seemed to move on their own. Vette shuddered and shrank back.

"Wow," she said. "When you Sith do creepy, you _really_ do creepy."

Mau'te said, "We've had a lot of practice. Wait here, and hope I win against the guardian."

"What do I do if you lose?"

"Run until it catches you," he replied.

"I love these little chats of ours."

Mau'te ascended the platform and forced open the sarcophagus. He pulled out the ancient lightsaber, brushed the cobwebs from it, and examined the power supply. He looked at Vette and nodded. With his eyes on the chamber, he ignited the blade. The saber's emitter sparked, and a fractured blade slowly formed as if struggling to stand.

Three statues broke open. Corpses, armed with vibroswords, rose from the debris and attacked Mau'te. He cut down two of them, but the third fought back with surprising skill. More statues broke open, releasing more corpses. They were slow, but fought with skill and numbers. Mau'te had skill, speed and a lightsaber, but that might not be enough. He blocked as much as he could, and severed limbs when he found an opening. A battle of attrition, the guardians tried to wear down Mau'te while he dismembered them into uselessness. A half hour later, Mau'te cut apart the last corpse. He deactivated the lightsaber and dropped to his knees, his body covered with scorch marks.

Vette approached carefully, tiptoeing around the bodies.

"Do you need any help?" she asked.

"Just some rest," he said and leaned against a large piece of statue. "Any water left?"

She sat next to him and handed him the canteen.

"What were these things?"

After a long drink, he said, "Remember the acolytes that didn't make it out?"

"Ew! And I thought this place couldn't get any worse."

He gave her the lightsaber. "You wanted to see it."

She turned it over in her hands. It looked top-heavy and clumsy. Dark stains covered the metal, and the leather wrap was cracked and peeling.

"I thought it'd be cooler looking." She gave it back.

"He was a powerful Sith Lord," Mau'te said. "Not a powerful concept artist."

"Does it have enough power to get us out?"

"It should," he said. "If not, I can use the power cell from my vibrosword." He closed his eyes and tried to relax. "Congratulations on surviving the day."

"Thanks," she said. "This would almost be relaxing, if we weren't surrounded by dismembered body parts."

"All right," he said with a groan. "We can go."

"We still need to sneak out," she said.

He shook his head. "The acolytes won't attack anyone with a lightsaber."

After they were out of the chamber, she asked, "Do I really get dinner?"

"Yes," he said.

"And you won't touch me without permission?"

"No."

"And I don't get a cut?"

He stopped and stared at her.

"What?" she said. "I was just asking."

He sighed and shook his head.

"Sorry," she said.

They continued walking.

"How much is it worth, anyway?"

He groaned and kept walking.

"What?" she said.


	4. Vette 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An offer is made.

"Do it, murderer," the woman said.

Mau'te held her against a wall, one hand on her wrist, pinning her sword, the other holding the inactive lightsaber against her neck.

"Look around," he said. "These halls are filled with murderers."

"But only one of them killed my father," she spat.

Mau'te leaned close and whispered something Vette couldn't hear.

"You lie!" the woman said.

"Prove me wrong."

She glared in response.

"Or die here," Mau'te said. "Make your choice."

She looked around at the other acolytes as they watched with mild amusement.

"So be it," she said and dropped her vibrosword.

Mau'te stepped back.

"I will redeem my father's name and then return for you," she said. She left with a parting glare. The audience shrugged and moved on.

Vette said, "You make all kinds of friends, don't you?"

"Almost as many as you," Mau'te replied.

The continued down a long corridor toward an obviously important office. Mau'te paused near the entrance.

"If you speak disrespectfully to Baras," he said, "he could kill you out of reflex. In fact, he might not notice he's done it."

"Thanks," she said. "That's a good thing to know."

They passed through an outer office manned by Imperial officers. Some of them watched Mau'te with veiled contempt, but he ignored them and entered the next office without knocking. Oh, right. Sith Lord. He probably sensed them.

Vette expected dripping blood or torture racks or something, but the office was very nice, clean and simple and very business like. However, the big guy in the Sith mask was scary as shit.

"Congratulations, acolyte," Baras said in a voice that sent chills to places Vette never wanted chilled.

"Darth Baras," Mau'te said, "The lightsaber of Naga Sadow." He held out the weapon.

"I am beside myself," Baras said and ignited the saber. "Not only did you get the slave to cooperate, but you completed the task and claimed the ancient lightsaber." He deactivated the blade. "I shall carry it to next council meeting as evidence of your accomplishment. It seems Tremel was right about you." He watched Mau'te for a moment. "Vemrin was not in my chamber as I instructed. I take it he sought to stop you and claim the ancient weapon as his own."

"He was nothing if not consistent."

"I knew he would confront you," Baras said. "Who better to test your mettle?"

"Why throw away a good man? He could have been a valuable asset."

"A necessary sacrifice," Baras replied. "It had to be done to bring out your best. Besides, Vemrin's arrogance always exceeded his strength. He would have come to an early end anyway." He paused again, perhaps smiling or thinking about small animals he might hurt. "I had my doubts about you, considering what you are, and what you were, and I do not rely on guesswork. I had to be sure you were true Sith."

"Consider me educated," Mau'te said.

Baras said, "Bravo. Your trials are over. You are now my apprentice."

"I am yours to command, my master."

Vette looked away at the word.

"Now, tell me, apprentice--" The mask turned toward Vette. "Why is the slave still alive?"

"She has useful skills," Mau'te replied.

"You stopped in the middle of my mission for that?"

Mau'te shook his head. "Other skills. Stealth, slicing, adaptation."

"Yes," Baras said in a pleased, creepy voice. "And no divided loyalties. And easier to dispose of. I approve. The slave is yours. Now, let us discuss your training."

"May I have a moment?"

"Be quick, apprentice."

Mau'te took Vette to the outer office.

"You," he said to a female lieutenant.

"My lord," she replied and rushed to him.

"This is Vette," Mau'te said.

"Shall I return her to her cell?" the officer asked.

"No," Mau'te said. "She has earned a reward. Get her a shower and some clean clothes, then take her to the restaurant on the thirty--"

"Ninth?"

"Yes. The thirty-ninth floor. I will join her when I'm done here, and she is to be treated with respect at all times, or I will be annoyed."

"Of course, my lord," the officer said. "Miss Vette, if you'll come with me."

Once they were out of earshot of the other officers, she said to Vette, "Lord Mau'te. Congratulations. You wouldn't need to picture someone else with him."

"Do you do that a lot?"

"Sith Lords can be very helpful to your career," the officer said. "Closing your eyes and thinking of something else is a small price to pay for a promotion." She leaned close and lowered her voice. "I know one officer that got command of a frigate by agreeing to spend her first day on the bridge naked. Now she has the frigate and a very happy bridge crew."

"He said he wouldn't do that to me," Vette said.

"Too bad," the officer replied. "Some Sith Lords are chased for reasons other than promotion. I hear he has quite a reputation."

"I'll take your word for that."

The lieutenant took Vette to private shower.

"Here you go. I'll make sure no one disturbs you. Do you want your clothes cleaned or replaced?" She examined Vette's clothes. "Replaced, I think. Hand them over, so I can match your size."

"Right," Vette said and looked for someplace to change but found nothing.

"We are both women," the lieutenant said.

"Sorry," Vette said. "My mother said a slave should never be pretty or naked."

"Your mother sound like a very wise woman."

Vette nodded and started to undress. The officer exhaled once her shirt was off, probably at the exposed ribs.

"Did you get those here?" the officer asked, indicating some bite marks.

Vette shook her head. "I got those on Nar-Shaddaa."

"Oh. The k'lor'slugs have a tiny relative," the officer said. "Some of the more difficult prisoners are put in the lower levels near the nests." She took a bottle from a shelf and handed it to Vette. "This should work on any kind of bite. It will help with the itching, and they'll heal a lot faster. If the wound bubbles, it means there are eggs. And this--" She took another bottle. "is the best soap we have. It's a bit rough, but, after a long trip in the desert, it's the only thing that makes you feel clean."

The lieutenant gathered the clothes and left. Vette stepped into the shower and let the hot water and soap scrape away the grime.

* * *

 

By the time the officer returned, Vette was out of the shower and wrapped in a towel, dabbing at wounds with the salve.

"Almost done," she said. She covered a wound, winced at the initial sting, then sighed as the pain and itching went away. "No bubbling so far."

"Excellent." The officer put a stack of clothes on the bathroom counter. "All I could find was nerf herder clothing, but, it's clean, and it should fit. I understand they make it from the underbelly fur. It's supposed to be very soft."

Vette picked them up. They were the first new clothes she'd had since... well, since Nox. Everything else had been found or "donated".

"Wow," Vette said, pulling the clothes on. "They _are_ soft. Your nerf herders treat themselves well."

"I'll have to remember that," the lieutenant said. "You know, you're very respectable for an alien."

"Gee," Vette said. "Thanks."

They took an elevator up the side of the building, giving Vette a view of the valley. It spread out brown and dusty with broken tombs scattered everywhere. Blaster fire sparked in the distance as Imperial troops attacked the rebels. Violence and decay. A perfect training ground for the Sith.

The greeter at the restaurant smiled at the officer and contained himself at the sight of Vette.

"How may I help you?" he asked the lieutenant.

"Lord Mau'te has just been named apprentice to Darth Baras," she said.

The greeter nodded.

"This young lady assisted him in his final trials." She leaned close. "He returned with the lightsaber of Naga Sadow."

The greeter appeared impressed. "Lord Mau'te. He's the--"

"Yes, he is," the officer said. "He said she is to be treated with respect, or he will be annoyed."

"Of course," the greeter said. "Apprentice to a member of the Dark Council. We shall do our very best."

A waiter called to him. "I have an empty table, sir. I can take her."

"Oh, yes," the greeter said. "You're used to dealing with-- Yes, very good."

The officer nodded and left, and the waiter guided Vette to a secluded table.

"Don't worry about them," he whispered. "That's as close to respectful as they're going to get." He tapped a button in front of her that activated a holo-emitter in the middle of the table. "The menu is here. Any idea how long he'll be?"

"He's in a meeting with Darth Baras," Vette said.

"Oh. Settle in. I'll make sure no one bothers you."

She scanned the room. She was severely underdressed for this place, but her clothes were clean and comfortable, so she didn't give a shit. She went through the menu a few times before the appetizers arrived then went through it a couple of more times. She watched the door and leaned back, trying to get a better view but saw nothing. When Vette turned back, she found a Twi'lek woman sitting across from her and nearly jumped from her chair.

"Hello," the woman said with a smile. "Pleasure to meet you." She was dark blue and lean with a slave's brand over her left eye. Three wide stripes ran down each of her lekku and a seventh crossed between the two tails.

"Uh... hi?"

"I was watching you from the ridge this morning."

"Oh," Vette said. "You're with--"

"Vemrin? No." She tilted her head, still smiling. "I have my own interest in Lord Mau'te."

"Interest?"

"We're both Twi'lek Sith Lords," she said. "A political union between the two of us could be beneficial to our species. But--" Her smile deepened. "I don't mind if he has something on the side. Has he made use of you yet?"

"No," Vette said. "He told me he wouldn't do that."

"Pity. I guess I'll have to find out the old-fashioned way." She examined Vette. "Did you really sneak onto Korriban from Nar-Shaddaa?"

"Yeah, I did. Who are you?"

The woman looked down at the menu. "Try the seared skirt steak in the house sauce. Spicey, but very good." She looked at the door. "He's here."

Vette turned toward the door. A moment later, Mau'te entered. She turned back and jumped again. The chair was empty and pushed in, as if it had never been used.

"Something wrong, Vette?" Mau'te asked when he arrived. He'd gotten rid of the scorched clothing and wore something more apprenticey.

"Did you see a Twi'lek woman in that chair?" Vette asked the waiter.

"Yes, I did."

"Did you see where she went?"

"No," he said. "Sorry."

"Twi'lek woman?" Mau'te said, sitting down.

The waiter excused himself.

"Yeah," Vette said. "I thought _my_ stealth skills were good, but wow."

"What did she look like?"

"She was an acolyte," Vette said. "About your color, my size, slave's brand over one eye, scary as shit. Asked if you'd made use of me."

Mau'te grabbed her wrist and squeezed hard. Vette cried out and pulled away.

"I'm terribly sorry, Vette," Mau'te said. He stared at his hand. "I shouldn't have done that. It won't happen again. You have my word."

"Okay," she said, holding her wrist.

"How can I make it up to you?"

"Can I... get dessert?"

"Yes, Vette," he said. He smiled at her cautiously. "You can get dessert." After a moment of silence, he said, "What did she want?"

"A political union. She said it might benefit Twi'lek."

"Oh, yes. Benefit Twi'lek in the Empire. That does make sense."

"She was the one watching us from the ridge. She wasn't with Vemrin."

"Interesting," he said. "A dark blue Twi'lek female. I thought I knew all the Twi'lek acolytes, but I don't recall a dark blue female." He thought for a moment. "Wait. Lord Zash just took a Twi'lek apprentice. That must be it. You're lucky you saw her at all. Zash trains assassins."

"A Sith assassin? Because regular scary isn't enough?"

"Not for all of us."

The waiter returned and asked for their orders.

Vette said, "I'll have the seared..., uh, seared skirt steak--"

"The seared skirt steak in the house sauce?" the waiter said. "Excellent choice."

Mau'te said, "I'll have the same."

The waiter nodded and left.

"Scary Sith Lady suggested it," Vette said.

"I hope it's not poisoned."

She stared at him.

"That was a joke," he said. "If she was going to poison us, she wouldn't introduce herself first."

"Right," Vette said. "So, you own me?"

"You are officially my slave," he said. "And I can decide that you will not be killed. However, the Empire does expect some kind of... repayment of your debt."

"Like... what?"

"Stay here and work on cleaning out the tombs."

"And get killed by a Sith Lord?"

"Actually," he said, "Most slaves don't die by Sith Lord. Most are killed by k'lor'slugs. Then cave-in, then shot trying to escape, then parasitic infestation, then Sith Lord."

"Nice to know I have choices."

"Or," he said, "You could work for me as an independent contractor."

"Doing what?"

"The same thing that got you here, stealth, slicing, a little thieving."

"You want me to steal for the Empire?"

"You'd be paid for it," he said. "Once you paid off your debt."

"Okay, but..."

"But why? The task Baras has for me would benefit from someone with your skillset. Normally, I would request an agent from Imperial Intelligence, but Baras doesn't want them involved."

"And I'm more disposable," Vette said.

"Yes. Technically. But, you would get to see the galaxy and earn some money. You'll be required to fight, but you'll also get your guns back."

"And, you won't touch me? Again."

"Not without permission," he told her.

"I guess it's better than the slugs or the other stuff."

"Very good," he said.

"So we're clear, I'm officially on strike when it comes to domestic duties."

"What a shocking revelation."

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't get any twisted ideas in that Sithy head of yours."

"I wouldn't be much of a Sith if I didn't," he said. "But, I won't act on them." He looked up. "They have our dinner."

"That part is kind of annoying."

"I know."

The waiter returned with their food. Vette stared at it but didn't touch it.

"Not hungry?" Mau'te asked.

"When you pushed me in the tomb, the first time, I thought you were attacking me," she told him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Any other Sith Lord would have attacked you."

"I know," she said. "But I wanted to apologize."

"Apology accepted."

She dove into the food.

"Wow," she said. "This is really good."

"Yes. It seems my stalker has excellent taste."

"You know," she said between bites, "You're not like most Sith Lords."

"I suppose not," he said. "But, I wasn't raised in the Empire."

"Where'd you get the accent?"

"Picked it up as an acolyte."

"But, you're originally Republic?"

"Yes," he said. "In fact, you might have heard of my family. My full name is Mau'te Onoka."

"Might?" she said. "I'm Twi'lek. I thought all of you were Jedi."

"I was once," he said. "I was originally a Padawan."

"Somebody... turned you?"

"Not exactly."

"Don't ask?" she said.

"Best not."

"Wait," she said. "Decent smugglers, huh?"

He smiled. "I take it you and he--"

"No," she said. "A friend of mine. She said she dated an Onoka. She said he was really nice to her then pissed her off and walked away. She never knew why."

"Is you're friend Twi'lek?"

Vette nodded.

"That's why. He doesn't want children. I understand his reasons, but it leads to situations like that. My apologies to your friend."

"So," she said. "Now what?"

"We will travel to Dromund Kaas," Mau'te replied. "Baras will have tasks for me to test me and prepare me for his mission. You will be training to improve the skills you already have."

"Where do I live?"

"We will share an apartment," he said. "Until I can afford something better."

"How much do I get?"

"A contractor's fee with a bonus every time you're in combat. Most will go to paying off your debt, but not all."

"Sound's good. I don't think Korriban is really my kind of place." She pushed the last of her steak into her mouth and chewed slowly. "If it's going to be a while before my first paycheck, could I get two deserts?"

Mau'te rolled his eyes and nodded.

* * *

 

Vette stared out the elevator window, bidding goodbye to Korriban.

Appetizers, dinner, two deserts. Vette actually felt full. The last time she felt full was two years ago. Plasmajack stole that case of nerfburgers, and Flash grilled them over a power converter. That was a good week.

"You're happy about something," Mau'te said.

He was watching her, but she pretended not to notice.

"Sorry," she said.

"It's quite all right," he said.

The elevator stopped, earlier than expected.

"We're going to my quarters," he said.

She stared at him.

"So, I can _pack_ ," he finished. "And build my lightsaber. And, I had Knash send up your toolbox."

The quarters were dorm room small, cramped but clean. Her toolbox sat on a small table, and he gave the box to her.

"All yours," he said. "But don't wear the guns while you're on Korriban. Just in case."

The packing didn't take long. He left the acolyte clothing, and packed only those things that made him look like a Sith Lord. Then he sat at the table, set a small case in front of him, and extracted the pieces of his lightsaber.

"Does this take long?" Vette asked.

He shook his head. "We can prepare the parts, but we are not allowed to assemble the final device until we are named an apprentice." He pushed a power cell into a charging station, then removed two red lenses from protective cases.

"I thought the crystals were raw and bumpy," Vette said.

"No," he said. "The crystal is cut into two lenses, and the lenses shape the beam into a standing wave. It is the purpose of the color crystal. The standing wave requires a single wavelength. The wavelength is determined by the thickness of the crystal layers. The color itself comes from the beam generator, but it is tuned to match the crystals."

"Oh. Someone told me the lightsaber was red, because the crystal was angry."

"What?" he said. "'The crystal was _angry_ '? I've heard some dumb theories about lightsabers, but that is one of the worst. It's a block of mineral. It doesn't have an emotional state."

"Sorry. Why are Sith lightsabers red?"

"We craft our crystals. They have a looser molecular structure, so a longer wavelength." He polished each lens and set them into the crystal chamber. "But, we choose to craft them."

"Why?"

"Iron. It is the final stage of nuclear fusion and at the core of most stars. That makes it abundant in the galaxy. Its chemical properties make it an excellent oxygen exchange medium, and a very good basis for blood." He slid the crystal chamber into the handgrip and attached the beam generator below it. "More blood is based on iron than any other element, so more blood is red than any other color." He attached the control section and then the emitter. "We associate blood with aggression," he said. "And passion. Emotions important to the Sith." He took the fully charged power cell, added it to the pommel, and attached the pommel to the rest of the lightsaber.

"Wow," Vette said. "That is much cooler than that Naga guy's."

"Thank you. I've been designing this lightsaber since I was eight."

"Is that it? Is it done?"

"Not yet." He adjusted the controls until one of the lights on the control section blinked red three times. "Diagnostic mode," he told her and pressed the activation lever. The red light started blinking again. "When the other light turns green, it's done. But, I've tested each component repeatedly. It won't fail."

"You know," Vette said. "The way you talk about it, it doesn't sound special."

"Of course it's special," Mau'te said. He held up the saber. "It's just not mystical. It's technology. Nothing more. It's the person using it that makes it special." The red light stopped blinking, and the green light came on. "We are told 'this weapon is your life.' With the Force and a lightsaber, a Sith Lord can achieve his goals. He can destroy his enemies. He can gain power. With the Force and a lightsaber, a Sith Lord can shape the galaxy." He adjusted the controls again, and the green light blinked three times and went out. "When I first designed this lightsaber, I wanted to use it to save the Republic." His voice dropped to a low growl, and the scar over his eye seemed to darken. "Now, I'm going to use it to kill my brother."

With a cold hiss, the red blade came to life.

* * *

[ ](http://fav.me/dcbgyj1)


	5. The Knight and The Consular

Ranna Tao'Ven clung to the Jedi's neck and cried out as the climax took her. He held her until the spasms passed, then kissed her mouth and her neck and her chest.

"More," she said between gasps. "Please, more."

She was safe while he held her, while he used her, while he did things to her. She wasn't Matriarch in his arms, or pilgrim, or orphan. She was flesh and pleasure and nothing more. Maybe, if she could be everything he wanted...

He stopped and looked up as if he'd heard something.

"Agenord?" she said.

"There's something wrong," he told her.

He left the bed, pulled on his pants, and listened. She watched him, tall and gorgeous with hard features and a harder body. His only flaw was a long, deep scar that ran diagonally between his eyes from his right forehead to his left cheek. He took his vibrosword, and started toward the door cautiously until he heard the loud crack of an ion rifle and a squeal from Teeseven. Agenord activated the vibrosword and ran out the door.

No, Ranna thought. She grabbed a robe and followed. She found Moorint, Eseni and Saylew aiming weapons at Agenord. The Padawan's striped lekku flicked back and forth like the tail of an angry predator.

"Not him," Ranna said. "Not him. That was the deal. Not him."

Eseni's eyes widened at Ranna.

"Matriarch, step aside," Moorint said. "Handing over the boy's Master wasn't enough. This Padawan has to die."

"Leave him alone!" Ranna said. "That was the pact!"

"Bengel Morr refused your terms." He raised his rifle. "This is to save our people!"

Moorint fired a sleep dart at Agenord. The Padawan caught it in the air without taking his eyes from Moorint's face.

Moorint stared and said, "Oh, shit."

Agenord dropped the dart and said, "You want to drop your weapons."

The eyes of Moorint and Saylew glazed over.

"We want to drop our weapons?" Moorint said.

"Yes!" Eseni said. "We want to drop our weapons." She threw down her rifle.

The men dropped their weapons.

"You want to leave here peacefully," Agenord said.

"We...?" Saylew began.

"We want to leave here peacefully," Eseni said and pushed the confused men out the door.

Agenord took Ranna by the throat and growled, "What did you do?!"

"I did what was needed to save my people!"

"We helped you," Agenord said.

"Only after the flesh raiders threatened you! Before that, we were nothing to you!" She shook emotion. "Bengel Morr promised us safety."

"He lied."

"I know!" she yelled at him. "But, once the temple was attacked, you'd call for help. All we had to do was hold out until the Republic troops arrived. The Jedi are doomed. This was our only hope."

"Not yet," he said. "The flesh raiders are tribal. An army isn't natural to them. Destroy Bengel Morr and the war leaders, and the army will fall apart."

"We've done everything we can against them."

"You're not Jedi," he said.

"You could stay," she said. "You could be our protector. We could be safe."

He released her throat. "Repair Teeseven. I'm getting dressed."

When he returned, Teeseven was up but not fully active. The droid beeped weakly at the sight of him.

"Agenord--," Ranna said.

"Not now." He took out his holo-communicator and contacted Master Satele.

"Padawan, it's good to see you," she said with a tone of urgency. "Is Master Orgus with you?"

"He's been captured by Bengel Morr," Agenord replied. "I believe Bengel Morr is gathering a flesh raider army to attack the temple."

"The attack has already begun. Is the village safe?"

"The villagers made a deal with Bengel Morr; safety if they refused to help us."

Master Satele shook her head. "Unfortunate and unnecessary. We believe Bengel Morr may be working with Nalen Raloch. Nalen would be his perfect disciple, and Bengel probably wants access to the teachings of Rajivari. Find Padawan Yvisnusiish. She can aid you in your search."

Agenord said, "Facing Bengel Morr with a vibrosword might prove difficult. Master Orgus told me to bring the components of my lightsaber with me. With your permission, I will construct it before I continue."

Master Satele smiled. "Sometimes, that man's foresight can be annoying. You have my permission, as does Padawan Yvisnusiish. May the Force be with you both. Satele out."

"The village was already safe, wasn't it?" Ranna said. "Because Bengel Morr made the deal with Nalen."

"Yes," Agenord said. "But, he could have stopped them from attacking the village after the Jedi were destroyed." He watched her with a little pity. "You should get dressed. Your people will need you soon."

Teeseven whistled despondently.

Ranna looked to Agenord for translation, but he shrugged at her. She left to dress, and Agenord gave his power cell to Teeseven for charging and contacted Yvisnusiish.

* * *

 

Yvisnusiish Onoka stood naked in front of a mirror, examining her body. The Jedi training had robbed her of some breast size. She had a lot to spare, but that was still disappointing. The firm abs were nice, though. She should show more midriff. She turned to see her ass. Too bad the Jedi didn't allow high heels. She would look good in heels.

"Do you think I'd look good in heels, Qyzen? What am I saying? Your people don't even like mammals."

"No," he hissed. "But we understand modesty."

She flicked her hand at him. "Modesty is overrated." She pulled on her Jedi clothes. She was restricted to types of cloth she could use, but had a little leeway in how she designed them. Once she pulled on the outer robes, she tightened the leather straps around her chest to push and lift her breasts to their optimal shape. Not a single Padawan at the Academy could match them. A couple of the Masters gave her some competition, but she had youth against them. She smoothed the robes. The straps had been a good addition. They were functional and mimicked the web patterns on her lekku, adding symmetry. Overall, one of her best designs.

As she left the building, she was greeted by Vederiat Ayon.

"And this was all you needed, Padawan?" Vederiat asked. Like most people, she kept her face rigid when trying not to look at the Padawan's chest.

"Yes," Yvisnusiish said. "Jedi are not allowed to accept money. You have my gratitude for the opportunity to cleanse myself after my trials."

"Are your trials complete?" Vederiat said.

"Not yet, but soon. Qyzen, shall we go?"

She wandered through the village, accepted a flat bread graciously, and continued on. She still felt that weirdness from the Temple, and she was stuck in this place until it passed. Then she stopped. Agenord was about to call her.

"Hello, Agenord," she said after the communicator beeped.

"Where are you, Yvie?"

"I'm in the village, getting lunch."

"Come to the Matriarch's house immediately."

"I'll be right there."

He was always so pushy. 

* * *

 

"She'll be here soon," Agenord said when Ranna returned.

He sat at her table as he worked. She sat opposite him and watched.

"So," she said with a sigh. "Now what."

He paused in his work. "It depends on what has happened to Master Orgus. I have calmed down a bit. I understand why you did it. I will speak to the Council for you. They might want you removed, but I will do my best to save the village."

"I didn't mean the Council."

"It depends on what has happened to Master Orgus."

"I meant it," she said. "You could stay. I wouldn't mind stepping down if you were here."

"I was made to be a Jedi," he told her.

"Because you're an Onoka?"

"A lot of reasons," he said. "We're preparing for war. It's a bad time to sideline one of our best."

"Are you really that good?" she asked.

"Yes. I am." He returned to the lightsaber. He took the power cell from Teeseven and inserted it in the pommel.

"All that from one power cell?" she asked.

"No," he said. "Primary power is supplied by a class seven fusion cell."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

He shook his head. "The class seven has never failed." He placed two orange lenses in the crystal chamber.

"I thought they were all blue or green," Ranna said. "I'm sorry. I'm bothering you."

"It's all right," he said. "Most are blue or green. Blue represents protection; green, growth or rebirth. Ideals important to the Jedi. Yellow tends to be philosophical. Purple... is complicated. And, orange, because of its association with fire, is favored by more aggressive Jedi."

"Yes," she said. "You can be aggressive."

"I'm sorry if I hurt you," he said.

"Not enough to ask you to stop."

"I meant your throat."

"Oh," she said. "Right."

Agenord finished the assembly, put the lightsaber in diagnostic mode, and began the test.

"When that turns green, it's ready," he told her.

"Will you really be able to stop them?"

"The flesh raiders, yes. They're ferocious but not well trained. I'm less sure about Bengel Morr and Nalen Raloch, but we will see." The final light turned green. He returned the saber to active mode and ignited the blade, watching it carefully, the orange reflection burning bright in the scar across his face. He looked from the saber to the door. "Yvie is here." 

* * *

 

"Matriarch," Yvisnusiish said when the door opened. "My cousin asked me to meet him here."

"Yes," Ranna said and showed her in.

Yvie found Agenord examining the blade of his weapon. He looked up and deactivated the saber, and the Matriarch followed Agenord's every movement. What was going on? Agenord was closed off, but the Matriarch was aroused and satisfied. Lots of women were aroused looking at Agenord, but why was she satisfied? Agenord, did you fuck the Matriarch? Perfect Jedi, my ass.

"I've spoken with Master Satele," Agenord said. "The Temple is under attack by an army of flesh raiders."

"Oh, that's what that was."

"If you sensed it, why didn't you warn them?" Agenord asked.

"I'm sure someone there sensed it."

"Fine," Agenord said. "We need to stop their war leaders, and we need to find Bengel Morr and Nalen Raloch. They're working together now."

"Bengel Morr wants that stuff from Rajivari?" Yvisnusiish said. "The Fount doesn't work anymore. I tried it."

"Why did you try it?"

"Because... I thought it would help me find Nalen. But the ghost told me he's at the Forge. He wants to destroy it so Jedi can't build lightsabers."

"Why didn't you go after him?" Agenord asked.

"You know that's not how it works. The Forge is ceremonial. Destroying it won't do anything."

"But, you left an insane Force sensitive wandering around with nothing to do."

"I had to kill one of those things," Yvisnusiish said. "The big ones. I forget what they're called. Anyway, I was all smelly, and I needed a bath."

"If you had stopped him immediately, we would only need to fight Bengel Morr. Now, we need to stop both of them." He took a breath. "Master Satele has given you permission to build your lightsaber. Do you have your components?"

"I don't have my lenses."

"You haven't picked out-- Never mind. They took Master Orgus prisoner."

"Why?" she said.

"Bengel Morr probably wants to turn him, but he will slow them down. The Forge might have lenses, if we can get to it before Nalen destroys it. Assemble what you can now, and give your power cell to Teeseven. He'll charge it on the way."

Yvisnusiish gave Teeseven the power cell and rapidly assembled what she could.

"Why do you talk to her this way?" Qyzen asked.

"Oh, yeah. That's Qyzen," Yvie said. "He's a friend of Master Yuon's."

"She's my cousin," Agenord said to Qyzen. "I'm used to her."

"I have seen her fight," Qyzen said. "She is a strong hunter."

"I know," Agenord said.

"I do not like your words." Qyzen's hiss was low and heavy with intent.

"I understand, but now is not the time."

Qyzen looked at Yvisnusiish. "You are her kin," he said. "I will wait."

Yvie sighed inwardly. "I've done as much as I can. Let's go."

"What do I do?" Ranna asked.

"Protect your people," Agenord replied.

"And try to be nice to the Jedi," Yvie added.

Ranna looked at her sharply, but Yvie pretended not to notice.

[ ](http://fav.me/dcqmeg6)


	6. The Knight and The Consular 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Forge

Allia watched Master Orgus carefully. He hadn't tried anything since he'd been captured, and that made her nervous. The flesh raiders with Bengel Morr growled again. More of their Force sensitive kin had been killed. War leaders must have died with them. They were the best the flesh raiders had, and they were nothing to the Jedi.

"Relax, girl," Bengel said. "They're not enough for us."

He kept saying that, but Allia wasn't sure.

"I don't like this Nalen," she said. "They're Onoka."

Bengel Morr sighed. "Every race in the Republic has a family like the Onoka. It doesn't make them special. The last Onoka Jedi died at the Sacking of Coruscant."

"After he killed eight Sith Lords," Orgus said.

Bengel glared at his former master.

"Don't worry, Allia," Nalen said. "With Master Bengel's skill and my new power, they don't stand a chance."

Allia smiled and nodded, but she would have felt better if they're hostage looked nervous.

"Keth," Nalen said. "How close are they?"

Keth started climbing a boulder.

"Don't bother," Bengel said. "One of them is nearly here. The other..." He listened. "The other has circled around and gone to the Forge."

"It's the female," Nalen said. "I know it. I can feel it. She's trying to build a lightsaber. We have to stop her."

Orgus looked away to hide his reaction.

"Go," Bengel said. "I don't need your help with one Padawan."

After the three Twi'lek left, Orgus said, "Your new apprentice will be very disappointed with you when he finds out."

Bengel said, "He'll be more receptive after the affects of the Fount have stabilized." He turned his head sharply, then pushed Master Orgus into a boulder, knocking him out. "I sensed you coming." He turned toward the Padawan, and the flesh raiders drew their weapons. "Your fear betrayed you. You're weak, like my old Master. You will fall. With him. The will of the Force guided me here for justice, to restore what the Jedi lost."

"Spare me the speeches," Agenord said.

"You don't understand," Bengel said. "You weren't on Coruscant. You never saw our greatest cut down or watched the temple burn. I escaped that destruction to see my own Master surrender to the Sith. They exterminated us, and he gave up."

"That's why you brought Master Orgus here? To make him pay?"

"One death changes nothing," Bengel said. "The weak will be sacrificed here, and the Jedi Order will be reborn from ashes."

"Enough," Agenord said, igniting his saber. "I'm here to end you."

Bengel's saber snapped to life. "So be it." He and the flesh raiders attacked. 

* * *

 

"They approach," Qyzen said.

"I know," Yvisnusiish replied. She picked through the crystals, looking for two undamaged lenses. "Something will stop them."

"Fitting that it's you!" Nalen yelled from the base of the Forge. "Armed with the last lightsaber this Forge will ever make!"

"He's really annoying," Yvie said as she cleaned two blue lenses.

"I know Rajivari's secrets!" He called out. "Horrors that the Jedi have been chasing! And only I can protect us, our families and our-- aahh!!"

Three manka cats attacked Nalen and his companions. Keth and Allia fired on them. Keth missed, but Allia managed to kill one. The other two manka moved in cautiously. Nalen drew his vibrosword, hoping the sparks from the blade would scare the creatures.

"Told you," Yvie said to Qyzen. She inserted the lenses in her lightsaber, sealed it, and started the diagnostic program.

"Perhaps a test is not wise," Qyzen said.

"It'll be fine."

Allia and Keth fired again. The manka cats lept away, dodging the bolts, but continued stalking the Twi'lek. After a bit of yelling and gunfire, the green light on Yvie's saber blinked three times. She switched it into active mode, turned, and ran from the Forge. Halfway down the steps, she jumped at one of the manka cats, ignited her saber in the air, and plunged the blade into the animal's skull. The other cat leapt at her, but she pushed it with the Force, and it flew off the edge of the cliff. She turned and attacked Nalen, while his companions watched in shock. The new lightsaber felt right in Yvie's hands, powerful, what she deserved. She smiled at the fear in Nalen's eyes. He wasn't bad, she had to admit that, but he was a pilgrim with a vibrosword. He didn't stand a chance. She beat him back, weakened him with a few quick wounds, and knocked the sword from his hands. He dropped to the ground in front of her, his life, his death, completely in her hands. She smiled again while she considered his fate. 

* * *

 

Agenord killed the two flesh raiders quickly, disappointed that he had to. Their deaths were Bengel's fault. But, he didn't let the regret slow him. Bengel was strong and experienced, and not afraid to use the Dark Side. He was Agenord's first genuine challenge since that day. Normally, Agenord would hold back a little to learn from his opponent, but he couldn't this time. Defeating Bengel took Agenord's best. Bengel got close to victory more than once, but, finally, Agenord twisted Bengel's saber from his hands and knocked him to the ground.

"You've won," Bengel said. "Why has the Force guided me to this defeat?"

"You guided yourself to this path," Agenord said.

"You're stronger than any Jedi I've known. You could redeem the order and destroy the Sith."

"The Order doesn't need to be redeemed," Agenord replied.

"I understand," Bengel said. "You are the weapon I came to forge. Think--how else could you have beaten me?"

"I spent five years with the Battlemasters, and I train a lot."

Bengel shook his head. "Don't deny the truth. I have spent a lifetime learning the paths to power. That knowledge is now yours. Let me leave Tython and prepare the galaxy for your ascendance. I will deliver the gifts you need to claim your destiny."

Agenord thought for a moment, then struck Bengel with the pommel of his saber. "Sorry, not today."

"Well done, Padawan," Orgus said in a weak voice.

"How long have you been awake?" Agenord cut the bindings on Orgus's hands.

"Not long," Orgus said. "What did Bengel say at the end?"

"Nothing of importance."

Orgus stood slowly. "Your cousin will need our help."

A manka cat howled as it fell into the ravine.

"She'll be fine," Agenord said.

Orgus looked down at Bengel. "You've done a great thing. He deserves a second chance. The horrors he witnessed on Coruscant broke him--destroyed the gentle Padawan I trained. You, however, faced a challenge beyond any trial I could assign. There's nothing more I can teach you."

"Thank you, Master," Agenord replied.

"I sense some doubt in you, Agenord. Did Bengel's words reach you?"

"No, Master, of course not. I disobeyed the Jedi Code. I know Jedi aren't allowed to form attachments, but... something happened with Ranna."

"I'm proud of you for admitting the mistake," Orgus said. "A lesser Padawan would've kept it a secret. Whatever feelings you have for that girl, bury them now. If you don't, they'll only bring you suffering."

"I understand, Master."

"Teeseven, watch over Bengel." Orgus took the Nautolan's lightsaber. "We must see what's happened to Padawan Yvisnusiish." 

* * *

 

"Surrender. Please," Yvie said to Nalen.

"I'd forgotten... the smell of my own blood. I... I yield."

"Please," Allia said. "You're not going to kill him?"

"I won't kill him," Yvie said. "He can go to the Jedi Temple until his fate is decided."

"But we still lose him," Keth said. "The village needs Nalen's help. How are we going to keep it together?"

"Have hope. Kalikori village is greater than one man," Yvie told him. "You must find your own strength."

"Yes," Allia said. "We will."

"Well said, Padawan," Orgus said, climbing up the path.

"It's good to see you alive, Master Orgus," Yvie said.

"Yes," Allia and Keth echoed.

"And, Bengel Morr?" Yvie asked.

"In custody," Agenord said.

"And, the village?" Nalen asked.

"Safe for now," Agenord replied. "The flesh raiders are focused on the Jedi Temple."

"How can we help?" Keth asked.

Agenord told him, "Their army is held together by their war leaders and the Force sensitives Bengel Morr trained. Stop them, and the army will lose cohesion."

"We'll help," Allia said.

"All of us," Nalen added.

"Let's go," Orgus said. "The Jedi need us."

"Small hunter," Qyzen said to Yvie. "When our battle is ended, we must talk. Scorekeeper has seen. Chosen for greatest honor."

"Of course, Qyzen."

The others started down, but Yvie held back a bit with Agenord.

"What do you think of that?" she said.

"It was a very nice speech," he replied.

"I paid attention in class," she said. "My grades were always really good. I even learned my vows."

"I already told Master Orgus."

"Oh," she said with a sigh. "Fine. Well, I have my lightsaber now. Let's kill some flesh raiders."


	7. The Knight 3

Master Orgus sat at the Jedi Council table, his back straight but the strain of his injuries evident in his eyes. Masters Satele Shan, Yuon Par, Jaric Kaeden, and Syo Bakarn filled the other seats. Padawans Agenord and Yvisnusiish stood at the end of the long table, waiting for the Council's assessment of their work.

"The Flesh Raiders are still a threat," Master Orgus said with a steady voice. "But without Bengel's leadership, they'll be scattered and ill-equipped."

"This temple could've been devastated," Master Satele added. "The entire Order is in your debt, both of you."

"In a way," Agenord said. "Bengel Morr did save the Order. He proved we are still vulnerable to attack."

"Agreed," Master Satele replied. "And now we have concerns beyond the Flesh Raiders. Recent developments in the Twi'lek settlement demand a response."

"Their Matriarch, Ranna, betrayed me to Bengel," Orgus said. "Reports indicate she still leads the settlement."

"You know the Twi'leks," Master Satele said. "How do you recommend we proceed?"

"We should take charge of their settlement," Yvisnusiish said. "They obviously don't know what they're doing."

"Jedi don't govern others," Master Satele said. "That kind of power is too easily abused."

Agenord replied, "The Matriarch said it well. We ignored the settlement until the flesh raiders threatened us. If we had defied the Senate and helped them right away--"

"We might have detected Bengel Morr's influence earlier," Master Satele finished.

"Are you certain the Matriarch regrets her actions?" Master Orgus asked.

"Very certain," Agenord replied.

Master Jaric added, "It seems we have much to learn about the villagers."

"Perhaps Nalen can help us," Yvie said.

"I've been treating him," Master Satele said. "He'll recover from his injuries, but I'm worried about his mind."

"That's the stuff from the Fount," Yvisnusiish said.

"The Fount of Rajivari?" Master Yuon said. "You actually set foot there? Please, tell me everything!"

"Master Yuon," Master Satele said. "The settlement."

"Of course. My apologies."

Master Satele turned back to Yvisnusiish. "You've seen more of this than anyone. What should become of Nalen?"

"Train him as a Jedi," Yvie said. "He proved he has great strength in the Force."

"And he could help bring reconciliation with the villagers," Master Satele said. "Padawan Agenord, do you agree?"

"About Nalen, yes," Agenord said. "We could also buy their surplus renlah."

"Renlah?" Master Orgus asked.

"A Ryloth grain," Agenord replied. "A staple of the diet, mostly used for flat bread. I think most of us are a little tired of the Republic food packs."

"Of course," Master Jaric said. "We should have approached them about their crops from the beginning."

"You want gallab," Yvie said to Agenord.

"Ga...?" Master Orgus asked.

"Gallab," Agenord said. "It's a celebration treat made with renlah. It happens to be my favorite. But, they'll have fruits and vegetables soon. And, without the flesh raider attacks, they might be able to domesticate some uxibeasts."

"Support for protection," Master Satele said. "A wise course. Do you agree, Master Orgus?"

"It is said the wise forgive but do not forget," Master Orgus replied. "We have both made mistakes. We must both learn from them."

"Agreed," Master Satele said.

"Permit me to tell them of the Council's decision," Master Orgus said. "I can show them I'm safe and not angry. Besides, I need to get my lightsaber back."

"Very good," Master Satele said. "And, now, Padawans. You have done more than enough to prove yourselves and complete your trials. You are full Jedi now, both of you."

"It's about time," Yvie said.

Agenord rolled his eyes.

"Time for the real work, anyway," Master Orgus replied. "The two of you should come with me. The villagers would respect the word of an Onoka Jedi."

"We don't get _that_ much respect from our people," Agenord told him.

"They will respect you," Orgus said. "After Keth and Allia tell them what you've done."

"When you return from the village, you must go to Coruscant," Master Satele said. "Master Kiwiiks has requested assistance."

Agenord and Yvie nodded. The Masters stood and began to file out.

"Now!" Master Yuon said to Yvisnusiish. "Tell me about the Fount!"

"Well," Yvie said as they walked from the room. "Master Rajivari himself spoke to me. What was left of him."

"You saw a Force apparition?" Master Yuon said. "Of Rajivari? This is extraordinary!"

"Master Agenord," Master Satele said and waited for the others to leave. "How are you doing?"

"I don't really know yet," Agenord said. "War is coming, but I have to think it's more than that."

"Well," she said. "The Battlemasters said you were the best they ever trained. They don't give out praise easily."

"Let's hope their right."

She nodded and looked away, obviously thinking.

"Wondering how I would have done against him?" Agenord asked.

"Sometimes," she said. "But it doesn't matter. His time has ended. Your time..."

Agenord sighed. "My time has already begun."

 

* * *

 

Teeseven chirped and shook at the sight of Agenord.

"Ready to go?" Agenord asked.

Teeseven whistled.

"I really need to get a translator," Agenord said.

Orgus, Yvie and Qyzen waited near the top of the stairs to the Grand Hall.

"Your cousin tells me the Twi'lek are still holding their festival," Orgus said.

"They fought hard for this festival," Agenord replied. "They will mourn tomorrow."

"The Jedi will mourn with them," Orgus said. "Shall we go?"

"Wait," Qyzen hissed. "The battle is ended. Your kin is Herald of the Scorekeeper. Respect is owed."

Agenord said, "I know my cousin better than you."

"Agenord's right, Qyzen," Yvie said. "I don't care how he talks to me."

"Respect is owed," Qyzen said.

"Should I ask how you want to settle this?" Agenord said.

"Do not mock, little hunter."

"My apologies," Agenord said. "You fought well for us. I will honor your request."

They located an empty sparring platform. Agenord armed himself with a vibrosword, and Qyzen dialed his electrostaff down to a training level.

"To five?" Agenord asked.

Qyzen nodded, and the fight began. Twenty minutes later, the fight ended with the score five to nothing.

"You fought well," Agenord said. "You nearly hit me a couple of times."

Qyzen responded with a low growl.

"I meant to say, I am pleased so strong a hunter is protecting my cousin."

"These words I like," Qyzen said. "I will not interfere in matters of kin. Scorekeeper has spoken."

"Can we go now?" Yvie asked.

Agenord said, "You can go. I have something I need to do."

Orgus asked, "Is it that important?"

"I'll be leaving Tython soon. I just have a few things to finish up. Don't worry, I'll be there before the fireworks."

Teeseven chirped.

"Nothing to worry about," Agenord said. "Go with Master Orgus. You'll have more fun."

Teeseven whistled sadly and followed Master Orgus.

Agenord made his way down to the ancient cells of the temple, nodded politely at the guards, and walked to the cell holding Bengel Morr.

"Master Agenord," Bengel said. "Thank you for saving me and bringing me home. What can I do to repay you?"

Agenord leaned close and said in a low voice, "Why were you really going to the Forge?"

Bengel sighed. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"What did you mean by 'paths to power'?"

"A mistake," Bengel said. "Driven by despair. Forget it."

"I'm not here to destroy the Jedi," Agenord said. "Or to rebuild them. I'm here to protect them."

"The knowledge is dangerous."

Agenord shook his head. "Your purpose was dangerous."

"I found teachings of Gray Jedi, and Dark. Teachings I should forget."

"For the Dark teachings, I agree," Agenord told him. His ice blue eyes focused hard on the Nautolan's black orbs. "But, the Gray Jedi sought balance, not destruction. I don't believe it is wrong to embrace a larger view of the Force, if you do it for the right reasons."

"Is that the right path for Tython's hero?" Bengel asked.

"It is a choice," Agenord replied. "I fight a very dangerous enemy. If I must lose my soul to save the Republic, it is my soul to lose."

"Perhaps," Bengel said. "Perhaps this is why the Force spared me. Perhaps you _are_ the weapon I was sent to forge."

"I _will_ seek the knowledge with your help or without it. Besides, I might not find it to my liking."

"Perhaps. But, I owe you a debt." He leaned closer to Agenord. "I found a reference to a datacron hidden on Tython, but the clues led nowhere. Then Nalen told me something the apparition had told him. I realized the clues led to the Forge. You'll find a stone cover at the top. The datacron is deep below, beyond arm's reach. You must find it with the Force and hope it responds to you. Only then can you draw it out."

Agenord smiled. "That answered my next question. Do you know what knowledge it holds?"

"Methods of modifying your lightsaber that the Jedi would not recommend," Bengel said. "And combat techniques that the Jedi might consider to be... unnatural."

Agenord smiled again. "'Unnatural' depends greatly on your point of view."

The dark eyes regarded him. "A warrior so made cannot easily return to the world he has saved."

"But, the world is still saved."

Bengel sighed and nodded. "I will send what I know of other hidden datacrons, but then I am done. I will not fail Master Orgus twice."

Agenord nodded with respect and departed.

 

* * *

 

The scent of ale and grilled uxibeast met Agenord as he pulled his speeder into the village. Music played, but none of the Twi'lek danced. Peace, painfully earned, emanated from them as they rested in the calm after the storm. The injured and recovering were the most active, talking or laughing, proving to themselves they were still alive.

Orgus stood in a small group with Yvie, Ranna, the hunters and Nalen's companions. He smiled and nodded and examined his lightsaber.

"We didn't do anything with it," Moorint said. "We just held on to it."

"It might be a little dirty," Saylew added.

Master Orgus chuckled. "It's been dirty before." He attached it to his belt.

"We're very glad you're safe," Ranna told him. "And, we're glad it's--" She saw Agenord and stopped. "We're glad it's finally over."

"And the Jedi will be glad to get some fresh food," Master Orgus said.

"In exchange for medical supplies," Vederiat Ayon called out while examining the bandages of an injured hunter. "We need that most."

"No," Agenord said. "You need shield walls most. The flesh raiders are scattered for now, but we don't know how long it will last. Medical supplies are second."

Vederiat glared at him but agreed.

"Welcome back, Master Agenord," Ranna said. "I'm glad you're safe."

"We're all glad," Eseni added.

"Will you stay for the fireworks?" Ranna asked.

"Yes," Agenord said.

Master Orgus said, "Don't stay too late. You'll miss your shuttle."

"I'm taking a later shuttle," Agenord replied. "I have one more thing to do before I leave."

Master Orgus watched him.

"A personal quest," Agenord said. "Nothing else."

"Try not to quest _too_ much," Orgus replied.

Food and ale followed. The festival remained subdued but generally happy. Master Orgus departed early, citing the strain of his injuries. Yvie received a call just as the fireworks began.

"I have to go," she said. "I guess Master Yuon has collapsed or something. I have to find out what." She smiled at Agenord. "Try to be a good Jedi."

After Yvie and Qyzen left, Ranna said, "She's not really my idea of an Onoka."

"There are all kinds of Onoka," Agenord said.

They sat a way from the other villagers. The Jedi presence, though welcome, remained uncomfortable.

"I guess." Ranna moved a little closer to him. "I wanted to thank you for everything, and apologize for everything, and, maybe, say good-bye. If I could. Unless you have your quest."

"The quest requires daylight," Agenord replied.

"Oh." She moved closer. "What will you do until dawn?"

"You need to understand, Ranna," he said, "I can't stay on Tython."

"You can stay tonight."

He sighed. "I suppose I can."

 

* * *

 

Agenord woke before dawn the next morning. He slid from Ranna's grasp and began to dress. He sensed her wake to the noise, and sensed her disappointment.

"What did you mean?" she asked. "You 'can't' stay on Tython?"

He turned hard eyes on her. The scar between them gleamed in the morning light. "I can't stay on Tython," he said, hooking his lightsaber to his belt. "Because, I'm the only one that can kill my brother."


	8. The Assassin 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Black Talon

The Twi'lek assassin sat deep in the shadows of a private booth on Vaiken Spacedock, watching Lord Mau'te and Vette. Khem Val sat next to her, silent and nearly invisible. For all his size, the Dashade possessed remarkable stealth skills, every bit the assassin he claimed to be. The Twi'lek wore a magnifier over one eye, less powerful than macrobinoculars but more than enough in this smaller space. She silently thanked the crowd. Dozens of women would be watching Mau'te. The assassin would be lost among them.

"Do I get to eat him, little Sith?" Khem whispered.

"He would tear you apart," she said without turning her eyes.

"I am not so easily killed," Khem said.

"You haven't seen him fight," the assassin replied. She zoomed in on her targets.

"Do we have to have one cabin?" Vette asked.

"I said I wouldn't do anything." He watched the departure board until the _Pathfinder_ appeared.

"I know. Just asking," Vette said. She adjusted her belt. "Thanks for giving me my pistols back."

"You're welcome," Mau'te said. "Turn around."

She turned her back to him. "So, anyway, Mister Sith Lord, sir--"

"You may call me Mau'te," he said.

"Right," she said. "So, I've been thinking. As a sign of thanks or whatever for my hard work--"

He removed her shock collar.

"Yes?" he asked.

She looked at the collar.

"Oh," he said. "Had a whole speech planned, didn't you?"

"That's the part that matters," she said.

"Would you like to keep it?" he asked.

"I never want to see it again."

He shrugged, sliced it in half with his lightsaber, and threw away the pieces.

"I want you to do some training when we get to Dromund Kaas. Your combat skills are a little weak. But, for now," he said, leaning close to her, "Keep your eyes open for your slave Sith Lord."

"She wasn't a slave," Vette said.

Mau'te gave her a curious look. "You said she had a slave's brand."

"She might have had a brand," Vette said, "But she was never a slave."

"Are you certain?" Mau'te asked.

"I was born a slave," Vette replied. "I know the look."

The assassin smiled. I like this girl.

Mau'te said, "We'll keep that to ourselves. One does not volunteer information on Dromund Kaas."

Vette nodded.

He told her, "You prove yourself valuable in the most unexpected ways."

"That was creepy," Vette said.

He sighed at her. "That was a compliment."

"A creepy compliment."

He stared at her.

"What?" she said.

He sighed again, and they departed, still arguing.

The assassin looked up at the list of departures. She and Khem could make the _Pathfinder_ , if they hurried.

"Time to go," she said, pulling up her hood and taking her luggage.

"As you wish," Khem said.

They moved through the corridors quickly, slipping past the crowd. The assassin scanned the other passengers and kept her mind on the near future. It wouldn't do to bump into Mau'te on the way. Fortunately, two Twi'lek stood out in a crowd like this. She shouldn't--

She stopped in front of one of the gates. The _Black Talon_ , a _Gage_ -class transport, en route to Dromund Kaas, prepared for departure.

"Your target awaits," Khem said.

She ignored him. Darkness and urgency called from the gate in front of her. She closed her eyes and reached out with the Force. Darkness and violence and opportunity awaited her on the _Black Talon_.

"This way," the assassin said.

Khem asked, "Do you abandon your target?"

"The destination is the same," she said. "We'll see him again on Dromund Kaas. But, you must learn something if you're to travel with me. When I have a vision, listen to it."

She walked toward the gate agent as a trickle of passengers boarded the ship. It took him a moment to register she was Sith, and she smiled politely once he did.

"Any cabins left?" she asked him.

"I don't believe so, m'Laydy," he said with a working-class inflection.

"Find me one," the assassin said.

"Of course, m'Laydy," he said. He tapped his communicator. "Gate 3, Ma'am. I have a Sith Lady here that wants a cabin. Yes, sorry, Ma'am, Sith _Lord_. Yes, Ma'am, I'll tell her. Lieutenant Sylas is on her way down, m'Laydy."

The assassin nodded to him and waited, ignoring his nervousness. After a few minutes, an officer exited the gate with a cautious expression.

"My Lady," she said. "Lieutenant Sylas, ship's Executive Officer. We don't get a lot of Sith Lords aboard the _Talon_. Any particular reason you've chosen us?"

"Yes," the assassin said in a soft voice.

"Right. And you are?"

The assassin smiled politely. "The apprentice of Lord Zash."

Sylas paled a bit. "Oh. Lord Zash. I do hope your business is on Dromund Kaas."

"Yes. Let's hope."

"And, your companion?" Sylas asked.

"Obviously," the assassin said, "He's my chiropractor."

"Of course," Sylas said. "If you'll follow me, we'll get you a cabin straight away."

Sylas displaced two officers for her. The assassin promised to thank them later. Cramped, but it had two beds. Khem couldn't fit either of them, but he'd have to make do. A distant sound and a vibration in the deck told her they'd detached from Vaiken. A softer vibration a short time later meant the engines engaged. A ship this size would take about five minutes to exit the traffic lanes. She waited for the sublight engines to disengage, took a deep breath, and pinched her nose. The _Talon_ entered hyperspace, and the assassin expelled the air softly. Her ears always popped in hyperspace.

"Why are we here, little Sith?" Khem asked.

"I don't know yet," she replied.

"Will I fight?"

"You will," she told him.

"Then I am pleased." He sat on one of the beds, crossed his legs, and appeared to meditate.

The assassin sat at one of the desks and took the components of her lightsaber from her luggage.

"Your master told you to wait," Khem said without opening his eyes.

"I assure you, she will forgive me."

Double bladed sabers were the tradition for assassins, especially those trained by Zash. Less effective against blasters or a single opponent, but more effective against multiple opponents with lightsabers, they were designed to kill enemy Force sensitives. Stealth and strategy, rather than brute force, got you past the more common hurdles. Four lenses, two power cells, twice the time, but, if one side was damaged, the other would still function. The diagnostics finished without trouble. She stood, held the weapon at arm's length, and ignited both red blades.

"It suits you, little Sith," Khem said, his eyes still closed.

She deactivated the weapon. "Good to know."

Two days to get to Dromund Kaas. Plenty of time for something interesting. She sat on the other bed, crossed her legs and began to meditate.

 

* * *

 

Twelve hours later, she practiced with the deactivated hilt in an open area, learning the weight and feel of it. Khem watched with a critical eye but offered no instruction. The crew and other passengers gave her a wide berth. She dropped low and stabbed at the air.

"You don't have much height," an instructor told her once. "Use it to your advantage. Get under their guard."

She pulled back into a defensive stance, and felt the ship drop from hyperspace.

Opportunity, she thought.

"Khem," she said. "We'll be needed on the bridge."

She was almost to the elevator, when she caught sight of Lieutenant Sylas.

"My Lady," the lieutenant said. "I hate to trouble you. Would you..." She lowered her voice. "Would you come to the bridge with me?"

"I was already on my way," the assassin said. "To thank your crew."

"Very good. And your... chiropractor?"

"Khem. Yes. He's _wonderful_ at snapping necks."

"I believe that, Ma'am," Sylas said.

Once they were in the elevator, the assassin said, "Tell me what it is."

"We're being ordered to attack a Republic battleship, Ma'am."

"Any reason why?"

"Something about a passenger."

On the bridge, she saw a man she took to be the captain speaking to someone in a Moff's uniform by holocommunicator. Outwardly, she ignored the crew, but their fear saturated her, got her own blood pumping. Good. She might need it. The captain appeared tense but in control. That was not bravado. He had battle experience. However, the Moff, correction, Grand Moff, looked like a complete bastard.

"My Lady," the captain said. "Captain Revinal Orzik, commander of the _Black Talon_ , at your service."

"You actually had a Sith Lord on board," the Grand Moff said. "I thought you were lying." He turned to the assassin. "I am Grand Moff Rycus Kilran, commander of the Fifth Fleet, second to the Minister of War, and--my personal favorite--"

"The Butcher of Coruscant," the assassin finished.

"My reputation precedes me. To whom am I speaking?"

"The apprentice of Lord Zash."

"Wonderful!" Kilran said. "Someone with your skills will be useful. Six hours ago, the Republic engaged in an illegal border skirmish on the edges of Imperial territory. One enemy warship escaped. That warship--the _Brentaal Star_ \--is carrying a passenger of vital strategic importance. Yours is the only vessel placed to intercept."

"Who exactly is this passenger?" the assassin asked.

"We don't know his identity, but the Republic believes he possesses military secrets--our military secrets. I trust the reports; he must be captured or killed. But, Captain Orzik doesn't share my enthusiasm. He's disobeyed my orders to attack." Kilran looked at Orzik. "Feel free to show him what the Empire does to cowards."

"How would I manage that?" she asked. "You're lightyears away."

The bridge crew stared at her in horror.

"I beg your pardon?" Kilran said to her.

"You're asking a group of civilians and barely trained officers to clean up your mess," the assassin said. "Perhaps you're right. That's not cowardice; that's incompetence."

Kilran looked at her like a nexu that stumbled upon a dangerous prey. "Commandeer this ship, find the _Brentaal Star_ , and deal with the passenger."

"I didn't say I wouldn't," she told him. "But, I suspect Captain Orzik has combat experience. I'll have a better chance of success if he remains in command."

Kilran smiled at her. "Lord Zash is always very particular about her apprentices," he said. "And she generally has good taste. I'll trust you _this_ time. Kilran out."

The holo switched off.

"My Lady--" Orzik began.

"Don't make me regret it, Captain. Order the passengers to their cabins, tell your crew to prepare for combat, and lay in a course for the _Brentaal Star_."

"Yes, my Lady," Orzik said and began directing his crew.

"Can I eat him, little Sith?" Khem asked, looking at the holocommunicator.

"He's not Force sensitive," she said.

"Sometimes, I don't mind."

The _Talon_ entered hyperspace, and she hid a smile by popping her ears.

 

* * *

 

An hour later, Orzik told her, "We're ready, my Lady."

"You made the right choice, Captain. You'd have been executed when we reached Dromund Kaas."

"But, my crew would survive," he said.

She looked at him. "You don't sound like a coward," the assassin said.

"I fought in the war before, and I'll fight again, but this is a suicide mission."

"I'm not looking to make a martyr of anyone."

"I expect you believe that," he told her. "I see it differently."

"The _Talon_ has the same superstructure as a _Terminus_ -class destroyer," she said. "Fewer weapons but the same shields and armor. Am I right?"

He sighed. "I might be able to get us close--but then you'd have to board the _Brentaal Star_ , fight an army of Republic soldiers and somehow find this passenger."

"You worry about getting me back," she said. "I'll worry about the passenger."

"Emerging from hyperspace now," the helmsman said. "One _Thranta_ -class warship on the scanners."

The communications officer called out, "Enemy is firing! Turbolasers, missiles--and what looks like transport pods."

"Evasive maneuvers," Orzik said. "Keep the pods at a distance. They'll latch onto the hull and cut at us with sabotage droids."

"Aye, sir," the helmsman replied. "Evasive maneuvers."

The communications officer said, "Sir, three shuttles on an intercept course!"

"An assault party," Sylas said.

"Combat droids," Orzik corrected. "They want to disable us so they can get away. They don't want to leave their crew behind."

"We don't have sufficient defenses to keep them from landing," Sylas said.

The captain looked at the assassin, back at the fight, and at the assassin again. He was right. She hadn't proven herself yet.

"Let them land," the assassin said. "I can handle the droids."

Orzik nodded. "Lieutenant," he said to one of his marines. "You and your men will accompany our guest to the shuttle bay."

"Aye, sir," the marine replied.

In the elevator, the lieutenant said, "We're all grateful for what you did for the captain, Ma'am."

"I'm not about to kill our most experienced soldier right before a battle."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said. "Probably kept us all alive doing that."

The other marines nodded.

"Very good," she said, taking her lightsaber from her belt. "Now, it's your turn to keep me alive." The elevator doors opened, and she ignited one of the blades and ran at the invaders.

 

* * *

 

"Fought like a nexu, she did, sir," the lieutenant said to Orzik. "Droids didn't stand a chance."

"Your men did very well, Captain," the assassin said.

"How many did we lose?" Orzik asked the marine.

"Two, sir," he said. "Three more in sick bay. Some of us are injured, but we can still fight."

"When will we be in position?" the assassin asked the captain.

"Soon enough," the captain replied.

"We'd be glad to accompany you again, Ma'am," the marine said.

"Do you have stealth skills?" she asked.

"Uh, no, Ma'am."

"Then you won't be an asset," she told him. "Get me there, and get me back. That's all I need."

The marine nodded.

"Damage report," Orzik said to the helmsman.

"We're holding together, sir--but I don't know for how long."

The communications officer called out, "Transmission coming in!"

"The _Brentaal Star_ wants to negotiate?" Sylas said.

"No, Ma'am," the ensign said. "Long range."

"Put it through," the assassin said. This might be interesting.

A woman appeared on the holo. "This is Jedi Grand Master Satele Shan hailing unidentified Imperial vessel."

The assassin suppressed a smile. Opportunity indeed.

"I'm en route to your location with sixteen Republic vessels," the Jedi continued. "I'm asking you to retreat before more lives are lost."

"Grand Master Satele Shan," the assassin said, stepping forward. "It is a pleasure, truly. Your actions during the war were legendary."

The Grand Master considered her. "And you are?"

"A Sith Lord, and I know what's on that ship."

"The _Brentaal Star_ is under my protection," Shan said. "I just crippled three Imperial dreadnaughts. I don't wish to destroy you--the peace between Republic and Empire is fragile enough already."

"I have no intention of starting the war today, Grand Master," the assassin said with a smile. "I have too much to do, and things are looking so _promising_ for me."

"Your base aggression serves no one--not even your Empire," Shan said. "I wonder if _any_ Sith can be saved."

"There are degrees of salvation, but I am focused on _success_."

"I won't be drawn into a philosophical debate," the Jedi replied.

"Pity. I would have enjoyed that."

"You've made your intent clear," Shan said. "But I suggest you prepare to face a Jedi--and you may want to consider what that means."

"It depends on the Jedi, doesn't it?" the assassin said, her eyes alight with expectation.

Master Satele narrowed her eyes. "I assure you, Yadira is one of our best."

The assassin shrugged. "I guess I don't need to hold back."

"Leave the _Brentaal Star_ to me. If you don't--" The Grand Master considered the Sith carefully. "May the Force be with you."

The transmission ended.

"I thought that went well," the assassin said. "Status, please."

"Entering fighter range," the helmsman said. "The _Brentaal Star_ is launching its first squadron."

"It's time for us to do the same," Orzik said. "My Lady, we'll be in range by the time you get to the shuttle bay."

"Excellent, Captain," she replied. "Getting through the ship will be difficult. Getting back with a prisoner will be nearly impossible. Therefore, I will steal one of their escape pods and pilot it toward the _Talon_. Have your shuttle grab it with a docking clamp."

"Yes, my Lady," Orzik said. "I don't usually say this to a Sith Lord, but it's been an honor."

"Thank-you, Captain, but we're not done yet. Khem, we have things to break."

 

* * *

 

"Are you sure, my Lady?" the marine said. "Just fire a bit and leave?"

"Quite sure," she said. "Distract them for me, something with a lot of smoke. Once we're out of their sight, they'll never see us again."

"I understand, my Lady, but it's a Republic ship."

"Not to worry," she said. "Imperial Intelligence has quite a few files on Republic ships. I've borrowed a few of them."

The fighters cut a hole in the Republic defenses, and the shuttle pilot flew through the center of it. The marines lined up at the port hatch, and the assassin and Khem waited next to the starboard hatch. Everyone clung to handles along the bulkhead.

"This is it!" the pilot yelled.

The shuttle hit the bay deck with a jolt and scraped to a stop. The marines filed out and started firing on entrenched Republic troops. After a few explosions sounded, one the marines nodded to the assassin. She and Khem exited the hatch and ran through the smoke behind a wall of equipment. She closed her eyes and scanned the possible exits for her best chance. Another group of explosions hit, and she and Khem ran to the corridor. A trooper nearly spotted them, but she clouded his mind and ran on. She and Khem slipped into the first maintenance area they could find and waited while more troops ran past in the corridor.

So far, so good. The shuttle bay was amidships. Primary defense would be towards the bow, but they wanted to slow down the attackers, specifically, a Sith Lord. They wanted heavy reinforcement, thick doors. They'd have the passenger in the engines and defended by droids more than troops. She opened her mind to the Force, let it guide her to the best place and time to move, and she and Khem started out.

Stealth and caution got them past most of their obstacles. The Republic troops prepared for a frontal assault. The assumption left their minds open to suggestion. Even so, she nearly lost control when she had to confuse eight at once. She and Khem had to wait in a maintenance alcove for her headache to pass.

No time, she told herself. No time.

Bypassing the droids required more mundane stealth. Fortunately, combat droid subroutines focused on strategy and obvious targets. The assassin was grateful the Republic hadn't included security droids in the mix.

Finally, she and Khem reached the hatch to the engine room. Two walker droids protected it, and stealth couldn't handle them. She identified a nearby crate small enough for her to move. She reached out, and it flew at the nearest droid. Both fired on it, but the crate struck the droid, dropping it's shields for a moment. The assassin started running as soon as the crate moved, and stabbed her lightsaber into the droid's processor when it's shields dropped. Khem attacked the second droid, overcharging his vibrosword and hitting fast and often. The repeated strikes weakened the shields enough for the assassin to break through and destroy the other processor. Immediately, the assassin turned back, closed the blast doors, and destroyed the controls. Once the droids were offline, the Republic troops would know their location. She returned to the engine room door, pried open the control panel, and sliced the system.

Too slow, she thought. Sith should use astromech droids like the Republic.

The door opened, and they found a group of combat droids and the promised Jedi. A corridor nearby could only lead to escape pods.

"Halt where you are," the Jedi said. "I am Yadira Ban, Padawan of the Jedi Order. I was sent to protect the general, and you will not pass."

"Surely you're joking," the assassin said.

"A Jedi does not surrender the innocent into the hands of evil," Yadira said.

"He's an Imperial general. They're not known for 'innocence'."

"Even so, I intend to drive you back--meter by meter, if need be. Just as the Republic pushed the Sith Empire into the dark of the galaxy!"

The assassin stared. "Is this just you, or do the Jedi teach a class in long-winded speeches?"

"Enough!" Yadira said. "I will not fall to one such as you. I will not!"

Yadira jumped at the assassin while the droids swarmed over Khem. The assassin ignited a single blade and blocked the attack. For all her bravado, Yadira was terrified. Her strikes were quick, almost desperate. She fought well but without strategy. At an opportune moment, the assassin ignited her second blade and cut the emitter from Yadira's saber. The Padawan jumped back in shock, landing in front of the blast doors. The assassin held up her hand and pushed the Padawan through the doors, slamming Yadira into a stack of crates with a crunch. The assassin moved the switch for the doors, closing them, and destroyed the panel with lightning.

Khem finished off the last of the droids and snarled at her.

"I was going to eat her, little Sith!"

"I'll buy you a fruit cup when we get back to the _Talon_."

She and Khem ran into the corridor, and Republic troops fired on them from the far end. The assassin blocked the blaster fire, and swung her hand in the air like a slap. The troopers were slammed into the bulkheads, knocking them out.

They reached the escape pods, and a voice said, "You can put aside your weapons. I won't try to run. I doubt I'd make it to an escape pod on my own anyway."

"How were you injured?" the assassin asked.

"Caught in your ship's attack," the general told her. "I'm told the wounds aren't fatal, but that doesn't help the pain."

She opened the nearest escape pod.

"Get in," the assassin said. "A shuttle will clamp onto us and take us to the _Black Talon_."

Khem lifted the general into the pod while the man winced and cried out in pain. He settled into a seat, sweating and gasping for air. Khem took a seat across from him, and seemed to forget the general was there. The assassin stepped in, switched the pod to manual control, and pulled the release lever.

"I was a general in the Imperial military service," he gasped. "Did they tell you that when they sent you here? Did they even know?"

"I figured it out along the way," she said. "Kilran might have known, but he didn't mention it."

"Kilran?" the general laughed. "Of course. He would have the gall to send a transport to take on a warship--and succeed."

"I wouldn't call it gall," she said. "And, I don't recall seeing him during the fight."

"The mark of a true leader," the general said.

A docking clamp locked onto them with a heavy jolt.

"Only get your hands as dirty as necessary," the general finished. "If you knew what I knew, you'd understand why I did it. If you'd heard what both sides are plotting, you wouldn't be eager to restart this war." He clung to his chest and gasped for air. "It will be unlike anything the galaxy's seen since the Great Hyperspace War. And it's too late to stop it--the so-called peace is already lost."

"Peace is a lie," the assassin said. "The Sith know this."

"So be it. We're all as good as dead, anyway." He swallowed hard. "They're building doomsday weapons. Shields that--"

"I don't care about your toys, General," she told him. "I care about the war. And the Sith."

"As cold as the rest of your kind."

She looked away from him. "So I've been told."

The shuttle slowed to a halt, the docking clamp released, and the pod dropped to the deck. The general groaned and nearly passed out. The pod door opened, and the marine lieutenant stuck his head in.

"My Lady," he said. "Glad it's you. Is that him?"

"It is," the assassin said. "Tell Orzik to get us out of here as soon as possible, and get our guest a medic."

"Yes, Ma'am, they're recalling the fighters now."

The assassin and Khem exited the pod so the medics could do their work. One of them stopped her as she was leaving.

"Any injuries?" he asked.

"Bumps and bruises," she said.

"And your... companion?"

"He's just hungry."

Khem growled a little but said nothing. He continued watching her in the elevator.

"I'm sorry you couldn't feed," she said to him.

"I thought you used stealth too much," he said, his face and aura unreadable. "I thought it cowardice, but you do not run when the fight has begun." A strange expression crossed his face that might have been a smile, or half a dozen other things. "I will have other chances to feed."

On the bridge, Captain Orzik called out commands, clearing one emergency after another. Combat experience, indeed. She'd wondered if he'd been demoted. Now, she was sure he hadn't. He hated the war as much as the general.

"Sylas, injury reports."

"Ten crew dead, twenty-two wounded."

"Passengers?" he asked.

"Thirteen injured, no fatalities."

He nodded. "Hetter?" he said to the helmsman.

"Course laid in, sir. Ready on your command."

"Brukarra?" Orzik said to the communications officer. "Fighters?"

"Last two coming in, Captain," she said, watching her screen. The bridge waited in silence. "That's it, sir. They're docked."

"Hetter!"

"Aye, sir!"

The engines powered up, and the ship punched into hyperspace. The assassin popped her ears, and waited on the captain.

"My Lady," he said, finally noticing her. "I hope this was worth it."

"You need to ask Kilran that question, but I doubt you'll like his answer."

"I suspect you're right," the captain said.

"Sir," Lieutenant Sylas said. "He did expect a report."

"Quite so. Ensign Brakurra."

"Aye, sir. Connecting to Grand Moff Kilran."

"Well," Kilran said. "How fortunate I could reach my friends aboard the _Black Talon_."

Orzik twitched but maintained his composure.

"How did the attack go?" Kilran asked.

"The general has been captured," the assassin said. "He'll be in your hands soon."

"Excellent," Kilran said with a smile. "I'll let Korriban and Imperial Intelligence fight over him."

"There was a lot of blood shed today, Kilran," the assassin said. "I hope it was worth it."

"Oh, I'm quite certain it was. Blood is cheap, after all."

She fixed her eyes on him. "I couldn't agree more."

"You should be proud. This is only one of many--"

"I'm sure it is," she said.

Kilran smiled at her again, remembering the dangerous prey. "I'll make sure your heroism is mentioned when I report to the other Moffs."

"I understand you have the favor of the Emperor," she said with a smile.

"I do," he replied.

"Try not to lose it." She turned to Brukarra. "End transmission."

"My Lady--" Orzik began.

"I'm very tired, Captain. I shall be returning to my cabin."

The captain snapped to attention and saluted her. The bridge crew followed his example. She nodded to them graciously and departed.

"Little Sith," Khem said. "What is a 'fruit cup'?"

"A small cup filled with fruit."

"Oh. Of course. I will need thirty."

She stifled a laugh. "I'll see that you get them."

Back in her cabin, she was about to relax when Lord Zash contacted her.

"Master," she said.

"Apprentice," Lord Zash began. "Did you threaten Grand Moff Kilran?"

"I was aiming more for impending malice with an undercurrent of distaste."

Zash sighed. "Moffs do not understand subtlety."

"Terribly sorry."

"It's quite all right. Kilran needs a good threatening once in a while. I see you've built your lightsaber."

"I had a hunch I'd need it."

Zash smiled. "Precognitives make the best assassins."

"So you've said."

"You've been tested earlier than I expected, apprentice, but you've done well. I will see you on Dromund Kaas. Zash out."

Khem poured six fruit cups into his mouth at once and swallowed. "Do I get to eat that one?"

"Not yet," the assassin said, lying down on her bed. "I need her for a little while."

He swallowed six more fruit cups. "Then, I will wait."

The assassin laid back and fell asleep.


	9. The Agent 1

"Did you get robbed?" Kaliyo asked, walking into the agent's apartment.

"I'm a minimalist," the Twi'lek woman replied. Tall, dark blue and athletic, her movements were as minimal and precise as her decor.

"This isn't minimalist," Kaliyo said. "This is empty-ist. I've seen prison cells with more furniture."

"I focus on work, not trivialities," the agent replied. She deposited her luggage in a corner of her living room. The remainder of the room contained two chairs, a small table, a holocommunicator, and some exercise equipment.

"I usually like that about you." She opened a tinted glass door and walked onto the balcony. "Where's my place again?"

"You don't have one yet," the agent replied. "But, independent contractors are there, in the Mercenaries Tower. Show them the identification, and they will find you a place."

"Which one is the Intelligence Tower?"

"That one," she said, joining Kaliyo on the balcony. "That's the Sith Tower, and that's the Mandalorian Tower."

"Right next to the mercenaries," Kaliyo said. "I like being close to hunky bounty hunters."

"I'm glad you found a way to keep busy."

Kaliyo smiled in a knowing way. "I'm not tired yet. Let's find a couple of bounty hunters that'll last the night."

"I have some work to do," the agent replied, leaving the balcony.

"Are you sure? I wanted to see some of those agent seduction skills."

"Not tonight. Sorry."

Kaliyo shrugged. "More for me, I guess. See you tomorrow."

The Rattataki left, and the agent waited until she heard the elevators open and close.

"Show yourself," she said.

"Impressive," said a voice in the darkness. "Most Sith can't detect me."

"Sith rely too much on Mind Trick for stealth. We're trained to resist it. You need to practice your mundane skills." She looked towards the shadows that concealed the speaker and reached for her vibroknife. "Who are you?"

The assassin stepped into the light. "Have I really changed so much?"

The agent gasped. "Yes. You have. Why are you _here_?"

"I had a vision," the assassin said. "And, I need your help."

The agent's eyes widened. "You _have_ changed. What do you need?"

"I need you to train a Twi'lek girl, in your off hours."

The agent tilted her head, watching the assassin carefully. "What Twi'lek girl?"

"Her name is Vette."

"That's not a Twi'lek name."

"She's a former slave," the assassin continued. "And a street thief from Nar Shaddaa."

"What is she to you?" the agent asked.

The assassin took a breath and let it out. "She's working with Mau'te."

The agent exhaled through clenched teeth. "You expect me to help _him_?"

The assassin glared at the agent. "This is no time for your personal issues."

"That personal issue is my _sister_!"

"And you have a job to do."

"Sorry," the agent said with a sneer. "I forgot who I was talking to."

"I'm not asking you to work with Mau'te. Just train the girl."

"Fine. How?"

"Combat, stealth, slicing, anything else you can think of," the assassin told her. "I want her ready. I want her to survive."

"Tell me why." The agent stared hard at the assassin.

"She's good for him," the assassin said.

"Why would I care?"

"You know what he is."

The agent laughed, bitter and painful. "Of course. He's the _center_ of your vision."

"He's half of it," the assassin said.

"Right. How could I forget?"

"You'll probably like her," the assassin said. "If that helps."

"It doesn't."

"Well, you'll like her anyway."

The agent looked toward the Sith Tower. "How strong is he now?"

"I doubt killing both of us would count as a challenge."

"I thought you would get stronger."

"I did," the assassin said. "He got much stronger much faster."

"Of course he did."

"Who's your friend?" the assassin asked.

"Kaliyo," the agent said. "Independent contractor. Loyal to the most money or the most entertaining. I'm both at the moment."

"Is she hiding anything?"

"I don't know. She might get upset if I looked."

"I'll look for you," the assassin said. "But, I won't tell you unless it's serious."

"That'll work."

"I trust you, you know," the assassin told her.

"That doesn't help either," the agent replied. "If you'll excuse me, I need to punch things."

The assassin shrugged. "I'll let myself out."


	10. The Trooper 1

"Is this really necessary?" Ambassador Asara asked First Officer Haken. They stood at the security exit for the _Esseles_ , and waited while the passenger bridge to Coruscant Space Dock maneuvered into place.

"I doubt it, Ambassador," Haken said. "But, you'll have to take that up with General Garza. Or her escort detail."

"An escort detail?" Asara asked.

"The Republic's best, ma'am."

The bridge locked into place, and a crewman opened the door for the Ambassador. Two Republic troopers waited at the far end of the bridge, a tall, dark blue Twi'lek man with scars covering half his face and a stern looking Cathar. Once Asara exited the bridge, the Twi'lek trooper stepped forward and saluted.

"Ambassador Asara?" the trooper said. "Lieutenant Cyr'rnin Onoka, Sergeant Aric Jorgan, Havok Squad. We are here to escort you to the Senate."

Oh, that's a woman, Asara thought. That is a sturdy looking woman.

"Did you say 'Onoka'?" the Ambassador asked.

"Yes, ma'am, that Onoka," the lieutenant replied.

"Then you'd know my rescuers," Asara said.

"Rescuers, ma'am?" the trooper asked.

"Hello, Cyr'rnin," Agenord said, exiting the security bridge behind the Ambassador.

The lieutenant gasped. "Master Agenord," she said in a voice like a star struck girl.

"' _Master_ Agenord'," he said. "We grew up together."

"You're a Jedi," she said. "It wouldn't be proper."

Agenord rolled his eyes. "Who's your friend?"

"Sergeant Aric Jorgan, sir," Jorgan said.

"Good to meet you," Agenord said. "Keep my cousin safe."

"Will do, sir," Jorgan replied.

"You built your lightsaber," Cyr'rnin said to Agenord. "You're a full Jedi now. It looks just like your sketch." She stared at it a moment. "Did you use a variable frequency beam modulator?"

Agenord sighed. "It gave me a shorter ignition time."

"But it makes the blade less stable," Cyr'rnin complained.

"So, I added a second collimating ring to the emitter."

"But that'll add extra weight to the emitter!"

"So, I moved the control box to the pommel. It's perfectly balanced, see?" He balanced the saber on the edge of his hand.

"Yeah, I guess."

"I needed the shorter ignition time," Agenord said.

"I believe that," Cyr'rnin said. She looked at him hopefully. "Is it blue?"

"Orange," he replied.

"Orange! Blue is traditional."

"I like orange."

"Yeah, you do," Cyr'rnin sighed. "Oh, Ambassador, you said 'rescuers'?" She looked at Agenord. "Is it Master Kriranda?"

"No," Agenord said cautiously.

"Cyr'rnin!" a male Twi'lek yelled from the bridge. He ran to Cyr'rnin and hugged her.

"Hello, Xal," the lieutenant said with a sigh.

"Hello, little sister!"

She sighed again. "I'm two centimeters taller than you, Xal."

He stepped back with a smile. "Fine. Baby sister! How are you doing?"

She groaned at him. "I'm doing just fine, Xal."

"Do I really deserve that?"

"My drill instructor."

"Yeah," he said. "I'll give you that one."

"What are you doing on the _Esseles_ anyway?" Cyr'rnin asked. "What happened to your ship?"

"Someone stole it and brought it to Coruscant."

"Why would someone bring a stolen ship to Coruscant?" she asked.

"I will ask him that right before I shoot him."

"And you actually helped rescue the Ambassador?"

He shrugged. "Mostly I stood next to Agenord while he did the rescuing."

"I believe that," Cyr'rnin said.

"No!" Asara said. "Your brother could have turned me over to the Imperials to save himself. He didn't. He was very heroic, and I'm very grateful to him."

Cyr'rnin looked at the Ambassador for a moment then said to her brother, "You slept with the Ambassador!"

"It was her idea," he said.

"Ambassador, on behalf of the family, I'd like to apologize for anything my brother may have said or done."

"No apology needed," Asara said.

Agenord stifled a laugh.

"Nevertheless," Cyr'rnin said. "I would like to make clear that Xaldiba is not representative of the rest of the family."

"She's got you there," Agenord said to Xal.

"Will you be accompanying us to the Senate, Captain?" Asara asked.

"I'm not really a Senate kind of person," Xaldiba said.

"Don't worry about it," Agenord said. "Teeseven has everything recorded."

The droid beeped enthusiastically, happy to be noticed.

"Very well," Asara said. "Captain, it was a considerable pleasure."

"Ambassador--" Xaldiba began.

Corso Riggs nudged the Captain in the ribs.

"Oh, right," Xaldiba said. "Cyr'rnin, my First Mate, Corso Riggs."

"Mister Riggs," Cyr'rnin said. "It's a pleasure."

"Yes, ma'am," Corso said, his eyes fixed on Cyr'rnin.

"They're just scars, Mister Riggs," she said.

"Ma'am?"

"You're staring at my scars, Mister Riggs."

"Weren't the scars, ma'am," he replied. "That's not what I meant! I meant, I'm sorry if I was staring, ma'am. Is what I meant."

"They're just scars," she said.

"Weren't the scars, ma'am."

"Corso," Xaldiba said. "Are you having inappropriate thoughts about my sister?"

"They ain't inappropriate at all, Captain," Corso said. "That's not what I meant! I meant, if I was going to have thoughts about your sister, Captain, they'd be upstanding thoughts, is what I meant. They'd be right proper thoughts, is what I'm saying."

"Yeah," Xaldiba said. "Say, Agenord, could you maybe, possibly mind trick customs a teensy bit before you go?"

"I have every faith in your resourcefulness, Xal," Agenord said.

"You're an asshole, Agenord," Xal said.

"As long as you know it," he replied.

Xal watched them leave. "Plan besh, Corso."

"How do you pronounce your sister's name, Captain?"

"Customs, Corso."

"Captain?"

"We can't see her if we don't get through customs."

"Oh, right," Corso said. "Let's go do that."

 

* * *

 

At the landing pad, they watched as a Republic transport buzzed into place. The side hatch opened, and a Togruta trooper climbed out. The group moved swiftly to the transport with Cyr'rnin and Sergeant Jorgan flanking the Ambassador. After salutes and introductions, Jorgan and the trooper helped Asara aboard the transport.

The trooper turned back and said, "We didn't hear anything about a Jedi."

"He was on the _Esseles_ with me," Asara said. "He's the one that rescued me, and his droid has everything recorded."

"Yes, ma'am," the trooper said. "Welcome aboard, Master Jedi."

Once they were in the air, Asara said, "Master Agenord, is Captain Xaldiba--" She looked at Cyr'rnin. "Really that bad?"

"He has good moments and bad," Agenord said.

Cyr'rnin looked at him but didn't say anything.

"It's best to get out while you still like him," Agenord continued. "He doesn't want children, and he will find a way to piss you off, especially if you're Twi'lek."

"That's too bad," Asara said. "He was more heroic than he gave himself credit for."

"I know," Agenord said. "But, he doesn't like people to know that."

"It's too bad," she said again and looked away with a faint smile.

"Lieutenant," Jorgan said. "What did you mean by 'that Onoka'?"

Asara said, "The Onoka are one of the strongest Force sensitive families on Ryloth."

"I like to think we are _the_ strongest Force sensitive family on Ryloth," Cyr'rnin said. "Most races in the Republic have one or two families that are strong in the Force," she told the Sergeant. "For the Cathar, it is the Hnilo family."

"I've heard of them," Jorgan said.

"For the Twi'lek, it is the Onoka," Cyr'rnin continued. "Our family has produced at least one Jedi every generation for the last eight-hundred and twenty-three years."

"What about the Securas?" Asara asked.

Agenord hid a smile.

"Well," Cyr'rnin said. "The Securas are strong; that is true. However, the odds of an Onoka being Force sensitive is one in six. The odds of a Secura being Force sensitive is one in nine. Although, they do compensate for that with a larger family."

Agenord suppressed a laugh.

Cyr'rnin said, "They do like to say they have had more members on the Jedi Council, which is technically correct, however, they have also had more scholars and instructors. The Onoka have had more field Jedi. But, they are a very honorable and respectable family, and a very worthy second-place."

Agenord suppressed another laugh.

"You have my vote," Asara said. "After witnessing Master Agenord in action."

"I certainly believe that," Cyr'rnin said, looking at Agenord with pride. "Master Agenord is the strongest Onoka ever tested. By a considerable degree."

Agenord shrugged, a little uncomfortable with the declaration.

"Didn't you mention another one, ma'am?" Jorgan asked.

"Yes!" Cyr'rnin said. "Master Kriranda. How is she?"

"No idea," Agenord said. "The Council sent me to train with the Battlemasters for five years. When I got back, she was gone."

"Did the Council say where she went?" Cyr'rnin asked.

"They didn't, and they won't," Agenord said. "But, it's Kriranda. It must be _something_ important."

Asara and Jorgan looked at him.

"I might be the strongest Onoka tested," Agenord said. "But Kriranda is the smartest. The Council would never waste that much potential."

Cyr'rnin said, "I must agree with my cousin on that."

"Senate Building," the pilot called out.

"Lieutenant, Sergeant," Asara said. "Thank you, and I'm sorry for the trouble."

"No trouble at all, Ambassador," Cyr'rnin said. "We had just arrived at the spaceport ourselves. Besides, I got to see my cousin Agenord."

"And Xal," Agenord said.

"Technically," Cyr'rnin replied.

"He does love you," Agenord told her.

Cyr'rnin nodded. "I will say that much about Xaldiba. He does care about family."

The transport settled onto its landing pad.

After she exited the transport, Asara said, "He really did risk his life for me."

Cyr'rnin looked at Agenord and back to Asara. "I believe you, Ambassador. Xaldiba can be frustrating, but he does have the occasional good moment. Now, if you'll follow me."

Once inside the building, Senate security took over, and Cyr'rnin and Sergeant Jorgan left to report to General Garza.

"I like her," Asara said.

"She's a little severe when it comes to family," Agenord said. "But she's one of the best people I know."

"Can I ask where she got the scars?" Asara said.

"That's not something we talk about. Sorry."

"Quite all right," she said. "Thank you for saving me twice, by the way."

"Twice?"

She nodded toward Teeseven. "I hate these debriefings."

"Are you attacked often?" Agenord asked.

Asara said, "I've been attacked a few times, but never with such determination."

"Oh."

"'Oh' indeed," she said. "But, the Republic has the strongest Onoka ever protecting it. I'm sure we'll do fine."

Agenord sighed and said, "Let's hope."

 

* * *

 

"These missions are critical, Lieutenant," General Garza said, concluding her briefing. "Our future success or failure is contingent on how well-supplied Tavus and his followers are."

"You can count on Havok Squad, ma'am," Cyr'rnin replied.

"I tried that before," Garza said. "This time, I'm counting on the two of you."

"Yes, ma'am," Cyr'rnin said.

"Rest up for now, and meet with Corporal Garrum in the morning," the general told her. "How was the escort duty with the ambassador?"

"Milk run, ma'am, but I got to see my cousin."

Garza nodded. "Master Agenord. I've heard about him."

"A lot of people will hear about him, ma'am," Cyr'rnin said with a smile.

"I'm sure they will," the general said. "Lieutenant, Sergeant, dismissed."

Once out of the general's office, Cyr'rnin said, "Did you ever deal with these underworld types, Sergeant?"

Jorgan shook his head. "Needles or Gearbox would disappear for a few days and come back with new supplies. They said don't ask. We needed the supplies, so I didn't ask. Are you staying on the base while we're here?"

"That's the plan. I don't have time to house hunt."

"Our gear should be there by now," he told her.

"Sounds good, Sergeant. Request a vehicle, and meet me at oh-six-hundred."

The next morning, Jorgan arrived exactly on time. He'd be damned if a demotion would make him less of a soldier. He knocked, waited for a response, entered and saluted. His new lieutenant had her leg armor on, but only wore a tight bra above the waist.

"I'm having trouble with the chest armor," she told him. "It'll be a minute."

That was the first time he'd seen her without her armor. She was his height, maybe a little taller, with muscles gained from a lot of hard work. He'd already seen her toss around a full duffle and a gear bag like they were empty. As impressive as that was, the scars stood out more. Deep and intricate, more surgical than random, they covered the right half of her face past her ear, continued down her neck and shoulder, and disappeared under the tight bra. Each line was clean and careful, more like torture than combat. But, as bad as they were, she hadn't done anything about them. They showed no hint of skin grafts or regeneratives, nothing but natural healing.

She caught him staring and said, "Problem, Sergeant?"

"Sorry, ma'am. Just wondering where you got those scars."

She watched him for a long time before answering.

"A Sith Lord gave them to me."

"A Sith Lord, ma'am? Why didn't he kill you?"

"He didn't want to," she answered in a tone that said stop asking.

"Yes, ma'am."

She returned to her bedroom, and he thought, shit, rookie mistake.

He looked around the quarters. Tiny but comfortable. The kitchen was untouched, so they'd need to stop for food. A work mount stood on top of her table surrounded by tools and components. The mount was too small for a rifle, but a pistol would fit. However, the device clamped in place looked like a lightsaber. A section of the casing had been removed, and the crystal chamber was exposed. A device, too large for the hilt, sat in place of the lenses with wires running from it to a power supply. He was still trying to guess what it did when she came out, geared and ready to go.

"Ready, Sergeant?" she said.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied. "If I may ask, ma'am--"

She watched him.

"Why do you have a lightsaber?"

"It's a hobby," she replied with sudden enthusiasm. "I have been working on that lightsaber since I was ten."

"What's that thing on it?"

"Magnetic lenses," she said. "They're used for testing. I don't have proper lenses."

"You could ask your cousin."

She shook her head. "I would never deprive a Jedi of a crystal."

They left and headed for the speeder.

"Any good with it, ma'am?" Jorgan asked.

Her eyes lit up, and she almost smiled. "I was undefeated in vibrosword in Special Forces training. I even beat the instructors."

"You could give your cousin a run for his money."

"No," she said, that pride in her eyes again. "You'll understand if you see him fight. No one else is that good."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, and thought, she's an odd one, but I've seen worse. He turned the speeder toward the base entrance, feeling like the Republic was a little less against him.


	11. The Hunter 1

Juda tapped at her screen, quadruple checking her numbers. A tenth of a credit off in one hundred thousand was too much for a Hutt. She appreciated the significance of her job, and the collar it kept off her neck. As if on cue, Nem'ro's laugh echoed from the throne room. One of the hunters must have pleased him. She returned to her screen when it flashed red. Someone had crossed the sensor in the hallway. Part receptionist, she waited for Nem'ro's guest. In a moment, a giant Twi'lek entered the foyer. Pale blue and youngish, he already showed some combat scars. He was a bounty hunter, obviously, but not in a scary way. Juda had always liked muscular men, and this one had arms as big as her thighs.

"Hello there, handsome," the Twi'lek girl said with a smile. "Looking for something?"

"Hello beautiful," he replied. "Got a name?"

"I'm Juda, Nem'ro's paymaster. If he gives you work, I'm the one you settle up with when the job's done."

"I like a woman with money," he said. "Ter'viro Onoka. Good to meet you."

"Onoka?" she said. "Do you know a Xaldiba Onoka?"

He sighed. "My older brother. You and he--?"

"No," she said. "Too skinny. I like big guys. How tall are you, anyway?"

"Two oh five."

Her jaw dropped. "Wow." She held out her hand. "It's a pleasure meeting you."

He looked at her hand. "Sorry. I don't shake."

"My hands are clean."

"I broke a guy's fingers when I was twelve," he said. "Accidentally."

"Oh," she said, pulling her hand back. "Ever hurt a girl? Accidentally?"

"Not yet," he told her. "My first girlfriend had some ideas. They worked out pretty well."

"Good to know. Are you here for the Hunt?"

"That's the plan. Anything I should know before going in?"

"Don't brag to him or brownnose him," Juda said. "He likes professional."

"I can do that," he said. "Thanks for the advice."

She checked his ass as he left. Broke a guy's fingers, but an ass like that might be worth the kolto.

 

* * *

 

Carnus said, "Look, boss, little tiny-- Never mind."

"Be polite, Carnus," Nem'ro said. "This bounty hunter has been sweeping the filth from my town's lovely streets. You stand in the court of Nem'ro. All you see in Jiguuna is under my authority. Welcome."

"Thanks," Ter'viro said.

"Your brother has worked for me twice," Nem'ro told him. "Good work, but I won't let you rest on his success. Tell me, do you think you're as capable as he is?"

"Yes," Ter'viro replied.

Nem'ro said, "Ha! Straight to the point, is it? Then I will do you the same favor. You want sponsorship into the Great Hunt. I can provide that. But why should I?"

"I can win."

The great Nem'ro laughed. "Mako says you are a famous bounty hunter--that hardened men run and hide just hearing your name. But Mako says lots of things."

"It's mostly true," Ter'viro replied.

"An honest bounty hunter?" Nem'ro said. "What next? A funny Jedi? You want to prove that you are this fearsome manhunter? I will give you that chance. I have targets here on wonderful Hutta that need eliminating. No problem for one with your reported skills."

"If there's money in it," Ter'viro said.

"A true mercenary. You'll do well with Nem'ro," the Hutt said. "Now, let's discuss your first target."

 

* * *

 

Two days later, Ter'viro rested in a kolto tank in the infirmary of Nem'ro's palace, compensation for the Beastmaster. The medic answered a knock at the door, and Juda peeked in.

"Okay to come in?" she asked.

Ter'viro waved her in.

"Nice to see you alive and well," Juda said. "That was really rotten what Nem'ro did to you."

"You could make me feel better," Ter'viro answered.

"You're as bad as your brother."

He looked at her.

"Okay," she said. "Maybe not that bad." She looked at the deep cuts on his arms. "Wow, those pits are brutal."

"That was one of those bug things," he said.

"K'lor'slug," the medic said. "We get them from Korriban."

Juda told him, "I've got a very large payment here for you, but it doesn't say what for."

"No big deal," Ter'viro said.

"Right. One large payment for mysterious reasons."

"Do you like mysterious men?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "I like reliable men. Win the Hunt, and maybe we'll talk."

"Am I done?" Ter'viro asked the medic.

"Close enough," he said.

Ter'viro nodded and stood up. Juda yelled and spun around.

"I'm really sorry," she said.

"Why?" Ter'viro asked and looked down. "Oh, right." He climbed out of the tank. "I grew up in a warm climate. We didn't care so much." He rinsed off in a shower stall and pulled his pants on. "Is that better?"

Juda turned back and thought, yeah, that's a body that could break bones. He looked strong enough to take down a Houk.

"Yes," Juda said. "Better. Here's your money. Don't spend it all in one place."

Mako burst into the room and said, "Ter'viro, we've been had!" She stopped and stared while he stretched the tension from his back.

"That was quick," he said and pulled on his boots. "Mako?"

"Yes!" she said. "You'd think people would secure their comm channels better."

"Got a name?" he asked. "Mako?"

"Yes!" Mako said. "I know who got Nem'ro's sponsorship token and how to find him. I'll tell you everything, but I've got a price. Take me with you. I want to be your partner in the Great Hunt."

"I know."

"I'm good with a blaster, and Braden was like a father to me. It's not fair that-- wait, did you just say yes?"

"Of course," Ter'viro said. "I couldn't have made it this far without you."

"Thank you," Mako said. "I want to be there when we find Braden's killer. I want that more than anything."

"Be careful," Juda said. "He flirts."

"Have you been flirting with Juda?" Mako asked. She looked at Juda. "Okay, that kind of makes sense, but we can't do that. We need to focus on the Hunt."

"Okay," Ter'viro said. "Ready to go?"

Mako nodded. "Whatever it takes to get you into the Great Hunt. The hunter we're after--"

"Tell me on the way," Ter'viro said, and they headed out.

Yes, Juda thought, that ass was worth the kolto.

 

* * *

 

"I see my scaly friend Rarsk was no match for you," Nem'ro said.

"Got that right," Ter'viro said

"I am Grataa," a Kaleesh said, stepping forward. "It is my honor to represent the Great Hunt. I have been investigating possible malfeasance by one Tarro Blood."

"He slaughtered my crew," Ter'viro replied.

"I am aware," Grataa said. "I regret that I arrived too late to intervene. While dishonorable, the attack wasn't technically against the rules. Unless Tarro attacks another competitor, he cannot be punished."

"He cheats," Ter'viro said.

Grataa said, "Perhaps. I shall monitor Tarro Blood's activities. If he breaks the Great Hunt's rules, he will pay for it, but know that Tarro is protected by this competition's rules the same as you."

"The Hunt won't last forever."

"Indeed, but the competition is only beginning. For now, go to Dromund Kaas. Seek the Huntmaster in the Mandalorian enclave. He will answer all your questions about the Great Hunt."

"I wish Braden could see this," Mako said.

"Don't worry," Ter'viro told her. "Tarro Blood will get what's coming to him--that's a promise."

"You're the best," she said.

"You have my token," Nem'ro said. "And recognition as the most fearsome hunter on Hutta. For this, and the Beastmaster, you shall be rewarded. Tshala, Ettu." The slaves on his dais looked up. "Tonight, you belong to him."

"They do?" Mako said.

"Of course, little Mako. Your hunter has earned it."

The slaves left the dais, took Ter'viro by the arms, and drew him from the room.

"Oh," Mako said. "Right. I guess I'll go back to my room." She watched the door they took and then left.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Ter'viro carried the human slave to the infirmary with the Twi'lek slave following behind them.

"She's injured," Ter'viro said to the medic.

"Put her on the table," he replied.

The girl winced while Ter'viro lowered her to the scanning table. Ter'viro stepped back, and the scanning bar ran the length of her body.

"You bruised three of her ribs," the medic said. "But nothing's broken. A little kolto, and she'll be fine."

"I'm really sorry," Ter'viro said.

"I know, master," the slave replied.

"Tshala," the Twi'lek said. "I have your clothes."

"Do you need help getting her into the tank?" Ter'viro asked.

The medic nodded. Tshala winced again when Ter'viro picked her up. He lowered her carefully into the kolto tank.

"Do you need anything else?" Ter'viro asked.

"No," the medic said. "It's really not that bad. You can go."

"The rest of it was really good," Tshala said. "Especially the stuff from last night."

"Thanks, but that doesn't make me feel better."

"You should go, master," Ettu said. "Nem'ro would be upset if you put us ahead of the Hunt."

"She's right," the medic said. "Tshala will be fine. I promise."

After Ter'viro left, Juda walked in saying, "Are you two slacking off?" Once the door closed, she ran to the tank and said, "Why did you need kolto?"

"It was an accident," Tshala said. "He's just really strong."

"It actually was an accident," Ettu said.

"I was on top of him," Tshala said. "And he was holding me. You know what it's like when a big guy holds you? And, he came, and he hugged me too hard."

Juda looked at the medic.

"It's consistent with her injuries," he said.

"He's just really strong," Tshala said. "The rest of it was good. He went down on both of us."

"That was pretty good," Ettu said. "He massaged my lekku and sucked on the tips."

"Oh, I love that," Juda said. "I told him I might reward him if he wins. Do you think I should?"

"Yeah," Tshala said.

"I guess," Ettu added.

"I know," Juda said. "You liked his brother more."

Ettu shrugged. "I will admit, Ter'viro has a nice ass."

Juda, Tshala and the medic said, "Yes."

Juda and Ettu looked at him.

"You didn't know?" Tshala said. "I thought everyone knew."

"Okay," Juda said. "I'll tell Nem'ro his hunter was rough with both of you. That'll get you a couple of hours."

"Do you have any regular food?" Tshala asked. "I'm sick of the food packs."

"He wants us skinny," Ettu said.

"I know," Tshala replied.

"It's Hutta," Juda said. "The regular food isn't much better, but I'll see what I can do."

A nice bounty hunter, Juda thought. They're rare, but they do exist. And on Hutta, a nice guy was definitely worth a few bruises.


	12. The Warrior 2

"Ow, ow, ow, ow," Vette said, settling slowly into a chair.

"Difficult training?" Mau'te asked.

"New instructor," Vette said. "She's a little intense."

"Anything that helps."

He examined and separated his new clothes. He had purchased more Sith Lord looking robes and divided them into casual, combat, and ceremonial. Mostly black with the occasional red or silver mixed highlights. He looked a little too good in them, not that she would tell him that.

"You can stay home tomorrow, if you like," he continued.

"Sparring or more droids?" she asked.

"Sparring, and I have a meeting with Barras. I know you don't like those," he answered.

"What was up with those droids, anyway? I didn't think droids could rebel."

"They can't," he said. "Someone is using them as a distraction. We don't know why yet."

"How many more people do you have to challenge?" she asked.

"Five more Lords, then I move on to the Darths." He watched her wince reaching for a drink. "Would you like me to fix dinner tonight?"

"No," she said quickly. "I can do it."

"You can barely move."

"I'll be fine."

"I thought you didn't like domestic work," he said.

"I'm getting used to the cooking part." She whimpered a little while trying to stand.

"I'm not that bad," he said.

"No, no, but I can do it."

"What if I order something?"

"That's a great idea," she said, sitting down again.

"I'm not that bad."

"No," she said. "But you should order something. That's a really good idea."

He rolled his eyes.

"What's the thing with Barras?" she asked.

"I don't know. He hasn't cracked the S.I.S. agent yet. This is something else."

"Any money in it?" she asked.

"If there's combat," he said. "Assuming you don't die."

"Cool. I'll get my stuff ready."

He gave her an odd look and ordered dinner.

 

* * *

 

"Ten more," the agent said.

"Ten?" Vette replied. Sweat dripped from her nose and the tips of her lekku. She groaned and shook and managed another push-up and collapsed. "How many do you do a day?"

"Two hundred and fifty," the agent said.

"I hate you." Vette groaned and did another push-up.

"This isn't hate," the agent said. "Squats are hate."

Vette's communicator beeped.

"Gotta get that," she said.

"Eight more when you get back."

Vette groaned again. She reached a quiet spot and answered the com.

"How is it going?" Mau'te asked.

"I hate her."

"Good. That means it's helping."

"Tell me there's combat," she said. "I really need combat."

"Actually, I'll be doing this mission on my own. I shouldn't be gone more than two or three days. I'll see you when I get back."

"What?" she said, but he'd already switched off. "I hate him. That son of a bitch."

"Problem, Vette?" the agent called out.

"He's got a mission, but he's doing it without me."

"Good. I don't think you're ready yet. Eight more.

Vette sighed. "You're as bad as he is."

The agent's eyes narrowed, and her face froze into a hard mask.

"I doubt that," she said in a soft, scary voice.

Vette thought, I'm going to regret that. "Eight more?" she ventured.

"Yes," the agent said, still in that soft voice. "Then squats."

Oh, yeah. Lots of pain tonight.

 

* * *

 

She was still pissed, and sore, three days later when he got back.

"I brought dinner," he told her.

She scowled.

"And dessert."

More scowling.

"You wouldn't have liked this mission." He set the food on the nearest table and started tearing open the bags.

"You know I need the money," she said. She could smell at least three of her favorite foods, but it didn't stop her.

"Not from a mission like that," he told her.

She scowled at him again.

"Did you do something to my instructor?" she asked.

"I haven't met your instructor," he said.

"She acts like she hates you."

"Maybe she doesn't like Sith," he suggested.

"Yeah. I understand that."

He sighed. "You wouldn't have liked that mission, Vette."

"How do you know that?"

"Some missions are too... Sith for you."

"Are you trying to keep me here?" she asked.

"I wouldn't do that to you."

"How would I know that? This was our first real mission. I wanted to be a part of it. I wanted to show you what I could do. I wanted--"

"I would have had to kill you!" he said. "When the mission was over. Barras wanted you dead. That was the kind of mission it was."

She watched him, waiting for the punchline, but he continued tearing open bags.

"I thought you needed me," she said.

"He told me, 'Get another one. You can find plenty on Korriban.'"

"Oh," she said. Stupid, she thought. Fucking stupid. He's a fucking Sith Lord. "What... kind of dessert?"

"That thing you had after the tomb."

"Reka," she said. She watched him with the food and noticed he barely moved his left arm. "Is something wrong with your arm?"

"It's a minor injury. I'll be fine."

She scowled at him again. "Sit down. I'll get the food ready."

He shrugged and sat down.

"Don't expect this every time," she said, going through the bags. "Injury is a special exception. You wouldn't be injured now if I'd been there. I'm just saying. And don't think I'm easy to kill. I could get away from you if I wanted to. I'd be on the run from the Empire, but we both know that was going to happen anyway. I've survived a lot worse than one clumsy Sith Lord, I'll tell you that."

"You're right," he said. "You're very slippery."

"You got that right." She sat down and started eating.

He watched her for a little while before picking up his utensils.

"The medic that worked on me offered to check my wound tonight," he said.

"Oh. You get that a lot, don't you?"

"One of the benefits of being a Sith Lord."

"Right," she said. "Sith Lord."

"I'll stay if you wish. If you need me for anything."

"No," she said. "I'm worn out from training anyway. I just want to go to sleep after this. Go collect your benefits."

"The training is going well?"

"It's tough, but it's helping," she said. "Thanks. For not killing me."

"You have a valuable skill set. I don't want to see it wasted."

"Shut up and eat," she said. "Your food's getting cold."

He shut up and ate. He finished. He left. Vette curled up on the couch and thought, What the fuck was I thinking? At least he didn't get to see her cry.


	13. The Knight 4

Agenord and Teeseven entered the Jedi training hall and found Kira Carsen running through combat exercises while her master, Bela Kiwiiks, spoke to Master Satele by holo. He waited and watched until he was noticed.

"Master Kiwiiks," Kira said.

The Jedi Masters looked up from their conversation.

"Master Agenord," Master Kiwiiks said. "How goes the investigation?"

"Slowly," he said. "I'm waiting for an informant to contact me."

"I heard about that business on the _Esseles_ ," Master Satele said.

"Just some Imperials and a Sith Lord. Nothing I couldn't handle," Agenord said.

Kira said, "Thank goodness your ego wasn't damaged."

"They didn't have the firepower for that," Agenord replied.

Kira rolled her eyes.

"Why are you here, Master Agenord, if not the investigation?" Master Kiwiiks asked.

"To test myself against you," he said.

"Worked your way down to me, have you?" she replied.

"You were a Battlemaster once," Agenord said.

"Briefly," she said, "And I wasn't very good at it."

"Master Orgus believes differently," he said.

"I agree with Master Orgus, Bela," Master Satele said.

Master Kiwiiks sighed. "I guess I'm outvoted, but you must help Kira clean up. That's my price."

"Do you mind if I watch?" Master Satele said, a gleam in her eyes.

Master Kiwiiks looked at her. "You sound oddly pleased, Satele."

"Do I?" she said. "I suppose I am. I just received word that Yadira Ban, the Jedi from the _Brentaal Star_ , will make a full recovery."

"I remember her," Agenord said.

"One of your many fans?" Kira asked.

"Actually," he said, "She was obsessed with my cousin Kriranda. I thought she was setting her bar a little high."

Master Satele smiled. "Yadira is nothing if not enthusiastic."

"Your cousin is 'setting the bar a little high'?" Kira said to Agenord.

"Yes, she is," Master Satele said.

"Master Kiwiiks?" Agenord said.

She held up her hand, and a training saber flew to her from a rack. Agenord did the same, and the fight began.

Forty minutes later, Master Kiwiiks, sweaty and breathing heavy, looked up at the scoreboard. Five to two, in favor of Agenord.

"Not a word, Satele," Master Kiwiiks said.

Master Satele replied, "You wouldn't feel so bad if you saw the list of his other victims."

"I still haven't beaten _you_ yet," Agenord said.

"Yet?" Satele replied.

He replied with a confident look.

"I haven't hit Master Kiwiiks once," Kira said. "And I'm her Padawan."

"You're getting better, Kira," Master Kiwiiks said. "You really are."

Kira didn't look convinced.

"It's getting late here, Bela," Master Satele said. "We'll continue our discussion later. Master Agenord, while I have you, the Matriarch asked about you."

"I thought that matter was settled," he said.

"It has been," she replied. "We're getting bread for protection. Actually, that bread is very good. It makes the protein paste edible. Maybe the Matriarch wanted to wish you well. She did seem to like you."

Agenord said, "We worked well together."

Teeseven squealed.

"What was that?" Kira said.

"I don't know," Agenord replied. "I'll have him checked out."

"I'll send someone to the village," Master Satele said. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"Master Agenord," Master Kiwiiks said, "Your fee awaits." She motioned to the training room.

"Well worth it," he said. "I learned a lot."

"You're kind," she said.

"I'm honest. You earned those hits."

Kira watched her master leave, and sighed and said again, "I haven't hit her once."

"Sorry," Agenord said, gathering training supplies.

Kira sighed again. "Thanks. And Master Satele is impressed with one of your cousins. I heard another one of your cousins is the head of Havok Squad. At twenty-two. Is that right?"

"Cyr'rnin," he said. "And her older sister Nin'nussil designs weapons for the Republic."

"That's a bit much for one family," Kira said, pushing a practice dummy back against a wall.

"We take our responsibility very seriously."

"Responsibility?"

He said, "We're strong in the Force. We're known for it on Ryloth."

"Oh," she said. "You're like the Windus."

"Exactly, and we tend to marry for genetic quality."

"You're eugenic?" she asked.

He shook his head. "We're not _that_ organized, but marriage for love is rare in my family. My grandparents aren't in love. Everyone knows that. I think my own parents have grown fond of each other. That's something, anyway."

"It sounds like a big family. There's really no one?"

"Kriranda's parents _might_ be in love," he said. "It's hard to tell. They're researchers. They're level of discourse is above the rest of us."

"Even with all that," she said, "Don't you think you're a little _too_ strong?" She saw immediately that was the wrong thing to say.

"Yes," he said in a heavy tone. "So does the Council."

"They're afraid of you?"

"'For me' would be more accurate," he said. "If my scores are right, I may be a Champion of the Force."

She raised her eyebrows. "Like Revan or the Perfect Being?"

"Revan," he said. "I wouldn't want to be the Perfect Being. I would _never_ want that much power."

"Still," she said. "It must be nice."

"Sometimes," he said. "Sometimes it feels like a burden. Sometimes it feels like cheating."

"People have accused Jedi of cheating since forever."

"True," he said. "That's not the part that bothers me. Everyone identified as a Champion has done something very important and died. Some people think Champions are strong enough to influence the Force directly, and it's afraid of them. It creates them for a reason and kills them when that reason is gone. They all accomplished something great and lived short, tragic lives."

Kira stacked more gear, not sure of what to say, then looked up. "What about Master Satele?"

"She's not a Champion," he said.

"No," Kira said, "But, if the rumors are right, she's descended from Revan through Bastilla Shan. Literally."

"I guess," he said.

"He must have had some fun. Maybe more than once. He was Sith for a while. There's no telling what kind of fun they had."

"Not something I wanted to picture," Agenord said.

Teeseven whistled in agreement.

"Find yourself a Bastilla Shan," Kira said.

He watched her and said, "Do you know any spirited Jedi women?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Not any that would put up with you."

He smiled at her. "Would you like a lesson before I go? I can show you how to get past Master Kiwiik's guard."

She thought about it and said, "Don't you have an investigation to get back to?"

"I do," he said. "Bastilla Shan used a double-bladed saber, didn't she?"

She stared at him. "Investigation. Go."

He smiled at her again and departed.

Champion, huh? Kira thought. Let's see. Brooding, check. Good with a lightsaber, check. Nice smile, when he shows it, check. Too arrogant for his own good. What do you know? Maybe he was a Champion after all.


	14. The Agent 2

"Is everything all right, Vette?" the agent asked.

Vette nodded, but she moved through sit-ups more by rote than enthusiasm.

"You usually hate me a lot more by now," the agent continued.

"Yeah," Vette said.

"Did he do something to you?"

Vette shook her head. "He's good about that. Barras wanted Mau'te to kill me at the end of that mission.

The agent sighed. The rumors about Barras and the slave rebellion must be true.

"Barras is known for not liking loose ends. Or witnesses," the agent said.

"I figured," Vette replied. "I could understand Korriban, but he wanted to kill me for doing the job right. I thought all I had to do was act like a good girl for a little while."

"Actually, you're one of the best people I know."

Vette laughed a little. "I've got a muddier past than you think."

"Compared to all the other people on Dromund Kaas?"

"Oh, yeah," Vette said. "Good point. At least Mau'te protected me. This time anyway."

"I suppose he did," the agent said.

"You don't like him, do you?"

"I don't like it when Sith Lords let their arrogance, or their passions, get out of hand," the agent replied. "And I don't like the infighting. It weakens the Empire."

"Why are you doing this, by the way? If Mau'te didn't ask you."

"I was asked by another Sith Lord, one more in control of her passions."

"Her?" Vette said. "Really? Why? Never mind. I don't want to know."

The agent smiled in spite of herself. "She has an interest in Lord Mau'te, and you're there to keep him alive."

"Oh, okay. So, back to the sit-ups."

The agent stood and held out a hand to help Vette up. "It's time for combat training."

"I thought I wasn't ready," Vette said, standing up.

"You just became ready." She took Vette to a target dummy and gave her a practice knife. "Do you know how to use a vibroknife?"

"Basically."

"Force sensitives predict your attacks by seeing the future, reading your surface thoughts, and reading your body language. You can confuse their foresight with multiple feints." She made four quick stabs at the dummy, but only one connected. "If you practice enough, your movements become muscle memory, and you can disconnect them from your surface thoughts. Learn enough different techniques, and your body language won't give you away."

"Is it really that easy?" Vette asked.

"No," the agent said. "They're trained to watch for it. But, it is the basis of everything else I will teach you. By the time I'm done with you, your chances against a Force sensitive will go from zero to... one in twenty. One in ten if you're really talented."

"Any Sith Lord?"

"An acolyte or an apprentice, yes. A Sith Lord, maybe. A Darth, run."

"I can do that," Vette said.

"Let's get started."

Two hours later, Vette dropped to the floor and groaned, "I can't lift my arms anymore."

"I believe you. Wait here. I've got something for you."

The agent recovered a small case from another room, sat next to Vette, and handed it to her. The case contained a high-end, military grade vibroknife. The blade was slender with a fine point and made of a black metal with a matte finish. An assassin's weapon. Moderate length, easy to conceal, and it fit Vette's hand perfectly.

"How much did this cost you?" Vette asked.

"Not much," the agent said. "I made it myself."

"Wow. Really."

"Thank you," the agent said. "The blade and guard are coated with phrik, and it uses a class two fusion cell. It should last you a lifetime."

"Phrik?"

"A special alloy," the agent said. "It's resistant to lightsabers, but not immune. It will stop a glancing blow but not a solid strike. It's good backup if the shield generator is damaged. It makes the knife heavier, but it's worth it." She ran a fingertip along the flat of the blade. "I made something like this for my sister."

"I'm betting she's not a chef."

The agent smiled again. "I haven't seen her for a few years, but I know she wanted to be a soldier. I wanted to give her a little extra protection against Force sensitives."

"You really hate them, don't you?"

The agent shook her head. "Not all of them. I know some that I would trust with my life, but they are definitely a minority."

"Any Force sensitive you have in mind for this one?" Vette held up the vibroknife.

"Yes," the agent said. "Any Force sensitive that attacks you."

 

* * *

 

The assassin opened the door to her apartment with a smile.

"Agent," she said, greeting the other Twi'lek woman. "And you must be Kaliyo. I've heard so much about you."

"Nice meeting you, my... Lady," Kaliyo said. "Sorry. I'm not much for formalities."

"Neither am I." the assassin said.

"I didn't think Imperial Intelligence got along with Sith," Kaliyo said.

"We don't," the assassin replied. "I'm blackmailing your agent with something juicy."

"Anything I can use?" Kaliyo asked, looking at the agent.

"I'd have to kill you if you found out," the assassin said. "But it'd be quick and painless. I promise."

"That's nice. Who's the big, scary whatever?"

"That's Khem," the assassin said. "You're not Force sensitive, so he won't eat you."

"Why doesn't he eat you?" Kaliyo asked.

"I'm not ripe yet."

"We're here to talk," the agent said.

"Quite right," the assassin replied. "Kaliyo, I was wondering if you could help me while the agent I are talking." She showed Kaliyo to a table with a dozen framed designs on it. "I've recently become interested in Rattataki tribal tattoos. I know some of them have additional meaning. I was wondering if you could assemble some these into a phrase I might like."

Kaliyo skimmed the designs and said, "I'll do what I can."

The assassin thanked her, and took the agent to a secure room.

"What do you think of Vette so far?" the assassin said.

"She's annoying, argumentative, sarcastic," the agent began. "Too damn good for him."

"Good for him is what I need. How are her skills?"

"Her stealth skills are nearly as good as mine," the agent said. "Her slicing is better. I'd love to know who taught her. Her combat skills need work. She's not a killer by nature. But she learns fast. I can get her ready."

"Excellent," the assassin said.

"I like her," the agent said. "If he hurts her, even once, I'm getting her out. Your vision be damned. I won't let him do that to anyone else."

The assassin nodded. "If her hurts her, she's hasn't helped him. It won't matter."

The agent had rarely seen the assassin at a loss.

"What happens if you fail?" the agent asked.

The assassin sighed. "Mau'te and Agenord lead armies against each other. Their war becomes the galaxy's war. Billions would die."

"There's another option," the agent said.

"No. They're here for a reason. Something else, something... clouded, will kill as many or more without them to stop it."

She exhaled in disgust. "The galaxy needs him or else. That's just perfect."

The assassin waited in silence.

"I saw what you did to Kaliyo," the agent said at last. "How bad is it?"

"I'm sure you've seen worse."

"It's bad enough to cover a family tattoo."

The assassin said, "That says more about Kaliyo than what she did."

"That I believe," the agent replied. "I can tell her I didn't ask. She'll trust me more. Now tell me, what do you know about Darth Jadus?"

"Never let your guard down around him," the assassin said. "I've never seen a Sith Lord that could cover his tracks as well as that one."

"Does _he_ need to survive?"

"No. He does not."

The agent smiled. "Let's see what Kaliyo has for you."

They found Kaliyo leaning against the table. Four of the designs were separated out and placed in a line. She appeared relaxed, but she watched the agent's face for any changes.

"What have you got for me?" the assassin asked.

Kaliyo motioned to the designs. "These tattoos form a common phrase, 'Strength though Intellect; Power through Knowledge.'"

The assassin pointed to another design and said, "Doesn't that also mean knowledge?"

"Yes," Kaliyo said. "This one--" She pointed to the first design. "--means information, research, study. That one suggests experience. Either could be used."

"Thank you, Kaliyo," the assassin said. "I guess I have a decision to make. It's been wonderful meeting you. And, agent, keep up the good work."

Once in the elevator, Kaliyo said, "I suppose she told you."

"I didn't ask," the agent replied. "I need you to trust me. Besides, she said it wasn't that bad."

"Not that bad?"

"By Imperial standards," the agent replied. "It's quite all right. That was just a gentle reminder. Everyone is vulnerable."

"That was gentle?" Kaliyo said.

"By her standards."

"Got it," Kaliyo said. "Don't piss off scary Sith bitch. Lesson learned. Does she really have something on you?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"Would she really kill me if I found out?"

"Yes," the agent said. "But she likes you. She'd make it quick and painless."

"What would you do?"

"I'd also make it quick and painless."

Kaliyo smiled like she'd just been given a new weapon to play with. "Cool. This job just got a lot more interesting."

The agent thought, yes it did.


	15. The Hunter 2

A Sith lady, Mako thought as she and Ter'viro walked back to the Mandalorian Tower. Are Sith really that scary? She never met any before Dromund Kaas. She knew their reputation, but she needed numbers. She reached out with her implant.

Connect to HoloNet.

_Connected._

Connect Imperial Public Records.

_Connected._

Search Admiral Fraabaal.

_316 entries._

Isolate family history.

_61 entries._

Search summary.

_3 entries._

She read through them quickly, but they didn't add anything new.

Return to HoloNet Primary.

Search analysis Sith Lord bounty hunter combat success rate.

_1,267,304 entries._

Shit.

Add summary.

_432,998 entries._

Add recent.

_80,617 entries._

Add unbiased.

_34 entries._

She skimmed through them, but the numbers weren't good.

"Find anything?" Ter'viro asked.

"Bounty hunters have beaten Sith Lords before," Mako said. "But it's usually the other way around."

"I figured."

"And I don't like killing her. I don't think it's right. I don't think that's what we're here to do. I know he said Sith politics, but she's his daughter."

"I agree," Ter'viro said.

"I don't know how we're supposed to do a job like this, or why, or why you agreed, or-- Wait, you agree with me?"

"Of course," he replied.

"I need to listen more. So, what do we do?"

Ter'viro put his hand on her waist and drew her into an alcove.

What was he doing? Why was he touching her like that? We're not supposed to do that, not while we're on the Hunt. It didn't feel bad, technically. It felt firm. His arm felt firm. Really, really firm.

He leaned down, his mouth close to her ear.

That's really close. Did he need to be that close? Maybe he did need to be that close.

"I want you to find someone," he whispered.

"Why are we whispering?"

"I want you to find my cousin Mau'te," Ter'viro said. "He might be on Dromund Kaas."

"Is he a bounty hunter?" Mako asked.

"He's a Sith Lord."

Mako nearly yelled but stopped herself. "What? I thought the people in your family were Jedi."

"When did I tell you that?"

"You didn't," she said. "I looked you up. I wanted to know who I was working with. What?"

"Nothing, I guess. Can you find him?"

"I can try. Why?"

"He might give us some tips."

"I can try," she said. "It will take a while. Sith are higher security."

"Do what you can."

They returned to their quarters, and he trained while she searched.

"I have something," she told him, an hour later. "It's kind of weird."

"Weird how?"

"He's working with a Twi'lek I know. It's kind of a weird coincidence."

"I got a cousin that talks about coincidences," he said. "I never understood her, though."

"I can talk to her," Mako said. "Maybe we can meet them outside the city. If they agree."

"Makes sense," he said.

"Okay. I'll talk to her tomorrow."

 

* * *

 

Vette groaned while she lowered herself onto a bench. She looked at the line of people waiting for a speeder and decided she could wait. She leaned back and rested.

Someone in a coat and a hood sat on the other end of the bench and whispered, "Don't say anything. Okay, say something, but don't say anything, okay?"

"Mako?"

"Shhh! I mean yes, but shh. We need to go somewhere. To talk, I mean."

Vette pushed herself off of the bench and followed Mako. Vette had a thousand questions for her friend, but only two that mattered. The young slicer guided Vette on winding route to avoid the security cameras until they reached clean but discrete alley. Mako smiled at Vette and waited. Vette hugged Mako and squeezed as if she were Vette's last grip on sanity.

"Vette?" Mako said.

Vette took a deep breath, let it go, and stepped back. "Why are you on Dromund Kaas?"

"I'm in the Hunt," Mako said. "Or trying to be in the Hunt. I'm with a bounty hunter, and we're trying to get a place in the Hunt. We need to prove ourselves to make it in, but we've got a good chance."

"What do you need from me?" Vette asked.

"My bounty hunter wants to talk to your Sith Lord. I can't tell you why. It's not bad, but I can't tell you why."

"Where?" Vette asked.

"Outside the city. Southern jungle, probably. You pick the spot. We'll be there."

"I'll talk to Mau'te."

"Thanks," Mako said. "Leave a message in the 4113-J code."

"I remember it," Vette said. She pushed a lock of hair away from Mako's implant. "How are you doing?"

"They killed Braden," Mako said. "One of the other bounty hunters. Just to make it difficult for us. They killed him just for that."

"Braden? Oh, the hunter that took you in."

"He believed in me," Mako said, wiping tears from her eyes. "He cared about me."

Vette nodded. Compassion was worth more than credits on Nar Shaddaa.

"I meant, how are _you_ doing?"

"Oh," Mako said. "Still looking. I have time. Don't look at me like that. I have time. Some time, anyway."

"Does your hunter know?"

"No, and don't tell him. Promise."

"I promise." She hugged Mako again. "It's good to see you. It's nice to find someone here who doesn't scare the shit out of me."

"I know," Mako said. "They're like that, aren't they?"

"How did you find me?"

"I sliced the security cameras. What? I didn't take control; I just accessed the feed."

"They execute people here," Vette said.

"Oh, right. Okay, I'll stop."

 

* * *

 

"Thank you for this," Vette said. She crossed her arms and shivered. Weren't jungles supposed to be warm? They had left the city before dawn so they wouldn't be noticed. The clearing he picked was reasonably isolated, but damp and cold.

"Of course, Vette," Mau'te said. "She's your friend. If you trust her, I trust her."

Vette stared at him. "What was that?"

"It's your job to keep me alive, Vette," he said. "How can you do that if I don't trust you?"

"Oh," she said. "For a moment I thought you were being nice."

"I'll endeavor to avoid the confusion."

"So, why the secrecy?" Vette asked.

"The Mandalorians wouldn't like it if one of their hunters asked for help from a Sith Lord," he said. "They are excellent soldiers, and we use them as mercenaries. It's why we gave them a tower. But in direct conflict, Sith Lords beat Mandalorians eighty percent of the time. Roughly. That is an unpleasant fact to a warrior culture."

"Oh," she said. "I suppose you'd feel the same way."

"You're quite right," he said. "We would."

The sound of a speeder reached them through the trees. It was about time. She'd almost been tempted to eat Mau'te's cooking for breakfast.

Mau'te closed his eyes, sensing the riders. "It can't be," he said.

"Can't be what?"

The speeder reached the clearing and a pale blue Twi'lek, obviously too large for the speeder, climbed down with Mako behind him. He had a strong face, a little above average, with a knife scar down his jaw. Mau'te saw him and exhaled sharply.

"You grew," the hunter said.

" _I_ grew," Mau'te replied. "You were shorter than me when I left. You must be as tall as your father now."

"I beat him by three centimeters."

"That wasn't a record you needed to beat. And _bounty hunter_. How did that happen?"

"How do you know him?" Vette asked.

"This is my cousin Ter'viro."

"Are you shitting me?" Vette said. "I mean, nice to meet you." She held out her hand.

"He doesn't shake," Mau'te said.

Ter'viro shrugged. "I broke a guy's fingers when I was twelve. Accidentally."

Vette believed that.

"So," Ter'viro said. "What's with the accent?"

"I picked it up as an acolyte," Mau'te replied. "It helped me fit in, and it's expected in the Empire. It makes things easier for me. Now tell me, how did bounty hunter happen?"

"I did my year of mandatory. One of the instructors said I could do this." He shrugged again. "I finally found something I'm good at."

"What are you talking about?" Mau'te said. "What about botany?"

Vette stared at Ter'viro and said, "Botany?"

"Oh, yeah," Mako said. "His mother's a botanist, and his grades in chemistry and biology were really good."

Ter'viro stared at her. Vette knew that look.

"What?" Mako said.

"Mako," Vette said. "Jaran."

"Oh, shit. Again? I'm sorry. I'll stop."

"Jaran?" Ter'viro said.

"A guy she liked," Vette said. "She stalked him on the HoloNet."

"Not really," Mako said. "Not much, anyway. A little, I guess. He blew it out of proportion."

"You went back five generations."

"I was thorough," she said. "Okay. Sorry."

Mau'te laughed. Vette stared at him. He actually laughed.

"So, this is Mako," he said. "I can tell you're a woman of exceptional ability."

"Oh," Mako said. "Uh, thanks. Huh."

"Why are you hitting on your cousin's girlfriend?" Vette asked.

"I'm not hitting on her," Mau'te said. "I'm simply being nice to her."

"And I'm his information officer," Mako said. "Technically. Not his... Never mind."

"Isn't she _your_ friend?" Mau'te asked.

"Yes," Vette said. "That's why I want to save her from you."

"I wonder how you ever acquired a friend in the first place," he replied.

"I'll have you know, I'm _very_ loyal to my friends," Vette said.

"She really is," Mako said. "She... Never mind."

"No," Mau'te said. "I actually believe that." He turned to Ter'viro. "How..." He stopped and took a breath. "How did the family react?"

"I don't know," Ter'viro said. "I didn't ask. I wanted to leave. I never liked what they did to you."

"What _he_ did to me," Mau'te said.

"Yeah."

Mau'te took another breath. "How is she?"

"Recovered. Mostly," Ter'viro said. "Never did anything about the scars. I don't know why."

"I know why," Mau'te said. "I know exactly why." He closed his eyes as if holding something back or pushing something back. "How is she doing?"

"Joined the military," Ter'viro said.

"Yes," Mau'te said with a bitter laugh. "She would excel at that. Thank you." He exhaled slowly. "On to business. Why do you need the help of a Sith Lord?"

"I guess it's safe to talk," Ter'viro said to Mako. "Our next target is a Sith Lord."

"This is to _enter_ the Hunt?" Mau'te said.

"Yeah," Ter'viro said.

"Who is the target?" Mau'te asked.

"Admiral Fraabaal's daughter."

Mau'te nodded. "I've heard about her. She's joined Grathan's cult. That _would_ be an embarrassment. What do you know about her?"

"She's nineteen," Mako said.

"Still an acolyte," Mau'te said. "How much combat experience does she have?"

"None, I think," Mako said.

"Her father kept her out of battle?" Mau'te asked.

Mako nodded.

"An undertrained, inexperienced, spoiled brat. Your chances are not horrible. Not even the Force could compensate for all of those failings." He retrieved something from his speeder. "Fortunately, I have my training saber with me. Let's run you through a few drills."

"Training saber?" Mako said.

"Yes. It generates a forcefield in the shape of a blade and fills it with a weak plasma. It mimics the feel of a lightsaber without chopping off limbs, although it does sting a bit."

"Okay," Ter'viro said. "Thanks for the help."

"Of course," Mau'te said. "Let's begin."

Four hours later, Mako dropped to the ground, begging for a break.

"We might do better if you held back," she said.

"He is," Ter'viro said.

"That's holding back?" Mako said. "But he's like really, really good, right? There's a lot of talk about him on the Imperial net. Everyone says he's really good." Everyone stared at her. "I did it again, didn't I?"

"I won't hold it against you," Mau'te said.

"Oh, good. There's a lot of talk from female officers saying--" She saw Vette's reaction. "Stuff I'm not going to talk about."

"Think we have a chance?" Ter'viro asked.

"I do," Mau'te said. "Your instructors were right. You _are_ good at this, but a lightsaber is a very unforgiving weapon. One lucky hit, and I lose my cousin. Remain on guard at all times to all things."

"You mentioned that few dozen times," Mako said.

"So I did. I think I've done as much as I can in the time you've got. Best of luck."

Vette gave Mako a quick hug before she and Ter'viro drove off.

"What's wrong with her?" Mau'te asked.

"She's a little intense sometimes," Vette said. "But she's brilliant. Really."

Mau'te looked at her. "You know what I meant. I could tell by the way you were watching her."

"Did you sense it?" Vette said.

"A little. Mostly, I noticed in her combat reactions."

"She doesn't want your cousin to know, so I'm not telling."

"Very well," Mau'te said. "I will respect her privacy."

"It weirds me out when you act like a decent guy."

"Do you want me to strangle some nexu kittens on the way home?" he asked.

"No, I'm good."

"You never ate your breakfast."

"I wonder why," she said.

"I am not that bad! I'm better than my mother."

"How bad is your mother?"

He pointed a finger at her, trying to think of something to say, then pointed at the speeder. She climbed into her seat, and stared out the window while he drove. That was the second time he'd been a decent... Third time he'd been... Fourth time... Never mind. He was still a Sith Lord.


	16. The Smuggler 1

"Don't cross that line, or the turrets will kill me!" the Mirialan woman said.

Xal and Corso stopped at the thick red line dividing the room from the corridor. Xal saw four turrets, two aimed at the doorway and two aimed at the Mirialan. He guessed at least two more turrets were around the corners of the doorway. The turrets had been bolted in place, quick and ugly, and fixed with electric eyes.

"Been monitoring you on the security network," the woman said. "You sure know how to make an entrance."

"Are you Kixi?" Xal asked.

"Short for Kixiaralu. You... you came here for me?"

"Relax," Xal said with his best smile. "I'm not here to hurt you. Captain Xaldiba Onoka, ma'am, at your service."

"Is there any chance you could free me? Because I'm definitely ready to not be here." Her eyes echoed her words, not innocent exactly, but hurt and strained. "The Guild locked me up two years ago. Forced me to work for them. I'll do anything to get out."

"You might want to rephrase that, ma'am," Corso said.

Xal gave Corso a look.

"I'm looking for a gutter-slime named Skavak," Xal said.

Kixi groaned. "I _knew_ that Corellian pig-lizard Skavak had ticked off the wrong person. No wonder he was in such a hurry. Skavak paid the guild to clean his identity record. They made me slice into the Republic's main database and delete all his arrest warrants."

"You can do that?" Xal asked.

"It's what I do," Kixi said. "The Republic administrators never even knew I was there."

"No wonder Skavak gets around so easily," Xal said. "Nobody's chasing him but me."

Kixi said, "He mentioned some Sullustan lawman giving him trouble. That's all I know. Now, can you get me out of here?"

"I've got a few ideas," Xal said, flashing her another smile. "They threw this together fast. They needed something autonomous with facial recognition and adaptation subroutines." Corso stared at the captain. "They must have used a droid brain."

"I figured that out," Kixi said. "But I can't get to it."

"But I can," Xal said. "It must be behind one of the panels in this corridor." He took an ion grenade from his belt and held it up. "If I can find it, I can fry it."

"That's nice," Kixi said. "But they'll fire on me if you try it."

Xal smiled again. "Corso, give me your barrier shield." Xal took his shield modules from his belt and accepted the modules from Corso. "Have you seen these before?"

"I've heard about them," Kixi said.

"Two will make a wall; four will make a box," Xal said. "It's not very big, though."

"I don't take up much space." Kixi stared at the modules like water in a desert.

"While I'm looking for the cognitive module, you put Skavak's record back."

"Easy enough," Kixi said. "Anything else?"

Xal thought for a moment and said, "Frame him as an undercover Republic law enforcement agent."

"You really hate him, don't you?" Kixi said. "How do I know you won't just kill me when I'm done?"

Xal said, "That's not the kind of gun I like to use on a pretty lady."

Kixi smiled. "You're sweet in a sleazy kind of way."

"I get that a lot." He took a scanner from a jacket pocket. "Now get to work on Skavak."

Xal started on the nearest wall, filtering out the power cable signal, internal circuitry, and Kixi's net connection, until he isolated the faint droid control wires. He read the signal in the wires, verifying the droid personality patterns, and started tracing them to their source, two of the turrets tracking his every move.

"Couldn't we just cut the wires?" Corso asked.

Xal shook his head. "It'll have redundant wiring and a wireless backup."

He followed the signal back three sections of wall and up to the ceiling. The scanner spiked, showing an independent power supply. He put away the scanner and pulled out a magnetic grapple.

"How much stuff do you carry, Captain?" Corso asked.

"A few necessities," Xal said. "Take the shield modules, and get ready to slide them to Kixi." He waited until Corso was in place, then fired the grapple at the ceiling panel. The turrets watched but didn't fire. Good. They didn't know where their brain was located. Xal attached the grapple cord to his belt and let it pull him to the ceiling. He put shaped micro charges near each bolt and dropped to the floor. "How's it going, Kixi?"

"All done," she said. "The minute he passes an identity checkpoint, it'll trigger an alarm. What about you?"

"I've set the panel to blow," Xal said. "I don't know what will happen when we slide you the shield modules. They're unapproved objects but not weapons. But, you're valuable to the Guild. I think the droid is programmed to kill you when it must, not for every little infraction. Crouch down. If I'm wrong, you'll need to put up that shield fast."

Xal nodded to Corso. His First Mate slid the modules toward Kixi. The turrets immediately tracked the modules but didn't fire. They stopped near Kixi's feet, and she reached for them.

"I wouldn't touch them just yet," Xal said. "Here's the plan; I'm sure the turrets will start firing when the shield goes up. You'll activate the shield, Corso will blow off the panel, and I'll throw the grenade. It's magnetic. We don't need to worry about it sticking. The droid will try to reboot fast. While it's doing that, Corso and I will blow it to shit."

"That'll be it?" Kixi asked.

"For the turrets, yes," Xal said. "But, do you remember when you said 'anything'?"

"Yes," Kixi said cautiously.

Xal said, "I'll have another job for you when I get my ship back."

"I'm all yours, Captain," Kixi replied.

"Really, ma'am," Corso said.

Xal gave him another look.

Corso took the detonator from Xal, and the two moved into position behind a couple of support struts. Xal set his blaster pistols to overcharge, armed the grenade, and nodded to Kixi. She curled up as small as she could and activated the shield modules. The modules maneuvered into place around her, and the remote tops separated from the bases and rose up, creating four shield walls between them. They stopped about ten centimeters above Kixi's head and formed a fifth shield section above her, the box forming faster than the turrets could respond. Even so, four turrets fired on Kixi and two more fired down the corridor. So far so good, but the shield wouldn't last long under that assault. Corso hit the detonator button, the panel blew out, and Xaldiba threw the ion grenade into the center of the smoke. Blue lightning exploded in the corridor, and the turrets shut down. Xal and Corso fired into the open panel and continued firing until the sparking stopped.

Kixi dropped the shield cautiously. No firing. She jumped up, ran to Xal and hugged him. "Thank you! You're my hero!" She kissed Corso on the cheek. "You too. Now, I got to go before they lock this place down."

"How am I going to find you?" Xal asked.

"You said 'ship', right?" Kixi said. "Trust me, I'll want to be found." She looked down the corridor. "I won't mind a bit if you kill some more of those Guild thugs on your way out." She turned and started running.

Xal and Corso followed after her. As they approached the main base, the heard blaster fire and something else.

Corso said, "Does that sound like a lightsaber?"

"Yes, it does," Xal said.

A moment later, they heard Kixi scream, and they started running. They found a group of freshly dead thugs and Kixi cowering in a corner. Agenord stood over her with his lightsaber out. Teeseven was next to him with his shock arm aimed at her.

"Agenord, don't!" Xaldiba yelled.

"Xal. Corso. Friend of yours?" the Jedi asked in a calm voice and deactivated his saber.

Teeseven whistled at the sight of Xal and Corso and retracted his shock arm.

"You know him?" Kixi said to Xal.

"He's my cousin," Xal said.

Kixi's jaw dropped.

"Don't worry," Agenord said. "I was going to interrogate you."

"With a lightsaber?" she said.

"It makes the interrogation go faster," Agenord replied and helped her up.

"Right," Kixi said. "What if more Guild guys show up?"

"I didn't leave any," Agenord said.

Kixi stared at him and said, "Oh. Shit."

"What do you do here?" Agenord asked.

"I was a prisoner," Kixi said. "Xal and Corso got me out."

"Why would the Merchant's Guild want you as a prisoner?" Agenord asked.

"Well," Kixi said. "I... uh... did some..."

"She's a data slicer," Xal said.

Kixi glared at him.

"Tell him what he wants to know, Kixi," Xal said. "Agenord doesn't get easy jobs. He's probably saving the planet."

"Not all of it," Agenord said.

"Right," Kixi said. "What do you want to know?"

"Did you try to slice a high security memory card about three hours ago?" Agenord asked.

"Shit," Kixi said. "Yeah, Czost Mej, one of my regular handlers, brought that to me."

"Did he know it had an alarm?"

"No," Kixi said. "He freaked out and took off."

"Did you know?"

Kixi nodded. "Of course. I was hoping Coruscant Security would show up not a big, scary Jedi. I wanted them to get me out of here."

Agenord thought for a moment. "I'm guessing the Guild doesn't advertise their slicer is a prisoner." Kixi shook her head. "Whoever gave the Guild that card wanted me to kill you." He turned to Xaldiba. "We need to do something about that."

"Kixi," Xal said. "You need to play dead for a while."

"How long?" she asked.

"Until Agenord says it's okay."

"Kixi, do you know if anyone else tried to slice that card?" Agenord asked.

"Any attempt would have set off the alarm," she told him.

"What if they used an isolated computer?"

She shook her head. "It had a built-in transmitter."

"How strong was the security?"

She shrugged. "Military grade. It would have taken a while."

Agenord nodded. "Where can I find Czost Mej?"

"Sorry. I never had to look that up." She looked at Xal. "Where do I hide?"

"I've got an idea," Xal said. "And no one will look for you there." He looked at Agenord. "If you make the call."

"Oh, yes," Agenord said. "I'll do that."

Xal said, "Kixi, does this place have a back door?"

"They didn't really give me a tour," she said.

Agenord said, "I can do something about it, Xal, if you show me where."

Xal took out his scanner, located his target, and motioned them to follow. He led them past the array of bodies down to the lower levels of the base. They stopped near one of the docks, grabbed a speeder bike, and continued down. They reached a warehouse section, and Xal scanned along an outer wall. He stopped and pointed at a section. Agenord waved the others back, and cut a large section from the wall with his lightsaber. He stepped back and pulled the cutout section into the room with the Force. It flew ten meters and screeched across the floor to a stop.

"Show off," Xal said. He maneuvered the speeder into the opening. "Tell her sector cresh sixty-two, level one-fifty-three, near the yirt shaped pipe bridge."

"Got it," Agenord said. "And, Xal, stay out of the sky until I tell you it's safe."

Xaldiba stared at him then nodded.

Corso said, "I was hoping to go with you, Captain."

Xal shook his head and climbed onto the speeder. "This is a difficult tunnel to negotiate. I don't have time to it teach you. Sorry. Kixi." He nodded at the speeder, and she climbed on behind him. "I'll meet you back at the hotel. If anyone asks, I'm out with a girl."

"No one's asked for a week, Captain."

"Fair enough. Kixi, hold tight, keep your head down, and try not to throw up."

"What?" she asked.

Xal flew through the hole, turned sharply, and dove straight down, missing three pipes he shouldn't have been able to see. After diving a hundred or so levels, he made another impossible turn that had Kixi clinging hard enough to bruise him. He flew into a jet-black opening and finally turned on his light.

"Did you throw up?" he asked.

"Not..." She took a breath. "Yet."

"That wasn't the last of it, but that was the worst of it."

She took another breath. "Good to know." She let the rushing air cool her a bit. "I believe you, by the way."

"About what?"

"Your cousin. No one sends a guy like that on a milk run."

"Yeah. He's been known to leave a mess."

"Where are we headed?" Kixi asked. "And, who is 'her'? And, cresh sixty-two? That's near--"

"The Republic base," Xal finished. "My sister is a lieutenant in the Republic military. I don't know anyone who would look for you there."

"Including me," Kixi said. "Sorry. You're doing a lot to help me. Forget what Corso said. I owe you anything and everything."

"Relax," Xal said. "I just need you to check my ship's computer. I want you to make sure Skavak didn't leave anything nasty behind."

"That's for saving me the first time," she said. "What do you want for this one?"

"Let me think about it," he said. "I might have a couple of ideas."

"I haven't dated for two years," she told him.

"I might have five or six ideas."

"When you get to ten, I'm ready to listen." She looked around. "Where are we?"

"Abandoned maintenance tunnel. No one has used it for a century."

"Why haven't they reclaimed it?" Kixi asked.

"Bureaucracy and arguments over jurisdiction. Hold tight." He made another sharp dive and a quick turn.

She clung to his back and whimpered, but she didn't throw up.

"What was Corso upset about?" she asked.

"He's got a thing for my sister," Xal said. "He wanted to see her again."

"Will she be okay with this?"

"She will if Agenord asks," Xal said. "Not so much if I ask."

"The trooper doesn't get along with her smuggler brother?"

"I know. It's a shock."

He made a quick left and a right and entered a very tight tunnel. Kixi lowered her head and pressed against Xal's back. She'd run out of questions. Now she was stuck with her situation. Prisoner had been bad; loose end was worse, especially with that memory card. High-end, military grade, SIS level security. She would have needed a week to get into it, if that was even possible. Any job that needed a card like that or a guy like Agenord was a job she wanted to escape.

"We have three more rough turns, and then it's smooth," Xal said.

"Sounds good," she said. Kixi didn't deserve a tenth of what he was doing. Xal needed a little payback. "Tell your cousin I've sliced military data before."

"I will."

They hit the first of the three turns. Kixi groaned a little, but she was fine.

"I don't think that card was made to be used," she continued. "A card like that is designed to catch a slicer. It had too much security. I don't know if anyone could get data off of it, not even the original owner."

"Why didn't you tell Agenord?"

"He'd ask about the other data I sliced, and he scares me."

"He's like that."

They hit the second turn.

"I appreciate what you're doing. I really mean that."

He nodded.

After the last turn, she said, "Hold up a minute."

He stopped the speeder and turned to look at her.

"If the computer is on your ship, that means you'll be getting me off of Coruscant."

"I figured you'd want that."

"I do," she said. "I meant it before. If you get me off Coruscant safe..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. " _Everything_ I have is yours."

He gave her a quick kiss. "I'll have more than ten ideas." He turned back to the tunnel, and she settled in, nuzzling his back.

After twenty minutes, they exited the smaller tunnels into a main line with slow moving, brackish water beneath them. The smell from it did more to Kixi's stomach than the turns, but she kept everything down. The followed the main line for another hour and finally reached a bridge over a large split pipe. A tall, Twi'lek soldier waited on the bridge next to a speeder bike. Xal pulled up next to her and stopped the speeder. Kixi tried to say something, realized she wouldn't make it, and ran to the railing.

"Thank you for waiting," Xal said.

Kixi nodded and raised a thumb and waited for more.

"Is she the package?" the soldier asked.

Xal said, "Kixi, my sister Cyr'rnin."

Kixi waved and gasped for breath.

"Kixi was helping me find the guy who stole my ship," Xal said. "Then Agenord showed up, and things got Agenord level complicated. Kixi needs to hide until he's done doing what he does."

"I understand," Cyr'rnin said. "I need to tell Sergeant Jorgan."

"Is he that Cathar?"

Cyr'rnin nodded. "I trust him with my life, so I trust him with hers. Any idea how bad this is?"

Xal shrugged and said, "Agenord told me to stay out of the sky for a while."

"Right. Kixi," Cyr'rnin said. "Are you about done?"

She nodded and turned around.

Cyr'rnin looked Kixi up and down. "I'm sure it's for the good of the Republic."

"That's the spirit," Xal said and mounted his speeder. "Kixi, play nice with my sister." He took off before she could respond.

Kixi said to Cyr'rnin, "Thanks. A lot. Really. A lot."

"Agenord wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

"He's kind of scary," Kixi said.

"He's... focused." Cyr'rnin climbed on her speeder and waited for Kixi.

"That's a good way of saying it." Kixi mounted behind Cyr'rnin. "I like your brother better. He's... you know..., but he's a decent guy."

"He is sometimes, but he hides it behind all that other stuff."

Kixi wrapped her arms around Cyr'rnin. "I got the decent guy today. That's all that matters."

"You're right," Cyr'rnin said, turning the speeder toward the Republic base. "It is." She took off.


	17. The Warrior 3

Vette and Mau'te rode one of the large, external lifts towards the middle Lords levels. Mau'te didn't wear his normal crisp clothes but a looser tunic, more like an acolyte's.

"A hideous Sith Lord was a bad cliche'," he'd told her once and did everything he could to prove it. He couldn't afford much on his Apprentice salary, but what he got was always clean and sharp. All straight lines and hard edges, he wore them like a second skin he refused to shed. The current tunic, on the other hand, clung to his torso and showed off his muscles.

Vette pushed those thoughts down. Only surface thoughts could be read, he'd told her. Keep them scattered. Your real thoughts must be an impression, not a clear voice.

"You're nervous," he said.

"Reading me again?" Vette asked.

"No," Mau'te said. "You've obviously been practicing, but you're acting nervous."

She watched him for a while and said, "I just don't understand why you didn't want me here. I've watched you spar before."

"I told you," he said. "I don't think you'll like Lord Hexid."

On the Lord's level, the ceilings were higher, the walls were cleaner, and the apprentices were more contemptuous. They scowled carefully in Mau'te's direction and gritted their teeth. He'd already beaten most of their masters, and they knew it.

"Is it just me," Vette said, trying to cover the tension, "Or does every apprentice use a double-bladed lightsaber?"

"They have become popular," Mau'te replied. "They are more effective against multiple melee opponents but less effective against blaster fire." He nodded at the other apprentices. "They expect to fight a lot of Jedi. However, blaster fire is far more common than another Force sensitive. The single-bladed, two-handed saber is the most effective against blasters, and it's the most versatile overall. Only the stealth types really need the double-bladed saber."

"What do the spikes do?" she asked.

He leaned close and whispered, "Nothing. They're a crutch for weak swordsmen. They're more likely to damage you than your opponent."

They reached their destination and rang the door. It opened, and they heard the sweep of a lightsaber in the distance.

"Enter!" a woman yelled.

Mau'te and Vette found the Zabrak Sith Lord slashing at holographic Jedi with a double-bladed lightsaber. She was barefoot, dressed in tight exercise clothes and covered in sweat. She finished off her last two enemies, deactivated her saber, and turned toward them. Hexid was a little taller than Vette and a little flatter. She had hard muscles, hard eyes, and a dangerous grin.

"So, you're the apprentice of Darth Baras?" She smiled at Mau'te. "I loathe Baras." She waited for a response. "No reaction?"

"Why would there be?" Mau'te said.

Hexid barked a laugh.

"Double-bladed," Vette said.

Hexid looked at Vette as if surprised she were there.

"She asked about them," Mau'te said. "I told her they were less effective against blasters."

"Quite right!" Hexid said. "I never waste my time with common troops. I go straight for the Jedi." She grinned again. "Now tell me, why should I accept your challenge?"

"I'm very good," Mau'te said.

Hexid looked him up and down and back up again. "Take off your shirt, and I'll consider it."

Mau'te dropped the simple shirt revealing muscles harder than Hexid's. Vette looked away and tried to think of something else.

Hexid smiled and said, "I've considered it." She exchanged her lightsaber for a training saber. She walked to the far end of the practice area and waited.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Mau'te asked.

Hexid gave him a look that had nothing to do with swordplay and removed her top. Vette gasped and looked away.

"What about this one?" Hexid said, giving Vette a similar look. "Is she going to watch or participate?"

"You may go if you wish," Mau'te said.

Vette nodded and left quickly. Outside the door, she whispered, "Asshole," and headed toward the lift. She stopped for a moment and took a few breaths, holding it in. "'Do you want to watch or participate?'" she said, starting again. "I don't want to watch your skanky ass. I don't know what you're talking about. Watch or participate. I don't need to watch something like that. I don't know what--"

"It's not that bad," the assassin said.

Vette hit the wall, gasping for breath.

"Are you part ghost?!"

"Not as far as I know," the assassin answered.

Vette leaned against the wall, waiting for her heartrate to drop. "Why are you here?"

"To tell you it's not that bad."

Vette finally had a good look at her. The assassin was shorter than Vette, flatter, thinner, a hundred times scarier.

"Why?" Vette said.

She put a hand on Vette's arm. "You were thinking of leaving. I'd rather you didn't."

"How--?"

The assassin smiled. "As Lord Zash says, 'precognitives make the best assassins.'"

"You knew all of... this?"

"More of an impression."

"Why do you care?" Vette asked. "Why do you want me here? Why do you want me with him? I thought you wanted him for yourself."

"My interest is political," the assassin said. "But I need to know I can trust Lord Mau'te. I think you help him with that."

"It doesn't seem like it."

The assassin smiled again. "A man like Lord Mau'te needs a challenge. Hexid is not his kind of challenge. I promise."

Vette shrugged and noticed the assassin's lightsaber. "So you know, he says spikes are a crutch for weak swordsmen."

The assassin held in a laugh. "I'm not surprised Lord Mau'te has a severe view of lightsaber design. They're not spikes; they're fins, and they're an artistic addition."

"Oh. It's kind of cool looking, I guess."

"Thank you. And please wait a bit. At least until your first real mission."

"Another impression?"

The assassin shook her head. "Familiarity. I've studied Lord Mau'te for a long time."

"That sounds kind of creepy," Vette said.

"I suppose it does," the assassin said with that same odd smile.

Vette shrugged. "They'd probably chase me if I ran."

"Chase you and execute you."

Vette looked back towards Hexid's quarters and sighed nodded.

"Excellent," the assassin said.

"Did you send my instructor?"

"I did," the assassin said. "She speaks well of you."

"Thanks," Vette said. She looked back towards Hexid's again and thought about Mau'te and Dromund Kaas and the Empire. She turned back, and the assassin was gone. "I really hate her." She sighed and returned home.

 

* * *

 

"Vette," Mau'te called out, entering their apartment. "I have dinner. If you want it."

Vette came out of her room with a strange look.

"Are you hungry?" Mau'te asked.

"I got a message from Mako."

"I heard," Mau'te said. "I heard about Fraabaal's daughter, anyway."

"Ter'viro is in the hospital."

Mau'te dropped the food on the table and said, "Let's go."

"We can't be seen with them," Vette said.

"You're the stealthy one. Make sure we're not."

Once they reached the hospital, Mau'te headed straight for the front door. Vette grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Do you want stealthy or not?" she said.

Vette searched the building quickly, looking at entrances, exits, and security cameras, until she found what she needed. She guided Mau'te to a security exit, locked from the inside. Mau'te reached for his lightsaber, and Vette pushed his arm back. She took a tool kit from her jacket, attached a probe to the lock, and scanned the lock for the power signal. She redirected the power for a moment, and the lock clicked open. Mau'te grabbed the door before the lock reset. Once inside, she pulled him to an alcove hidden from the cameras.

"What?" she asked.

He was looking at her strangely.

"Nothing," he said.

"Wait here," she told him.

She left for a long few minutes. She returned, motioned him to follow, and took him on a careful route to a maintenance door. She showed him a service lift with a worker nearby.

"I don't know what to do about him," Vette said.

"I do," Mau'te replied and walked toward the worker.

"My Lord," the worker said. "You shouldn't be--"

"You didn't see us," Mau'te said with a wave of his hand.

"I... I didn't see you," the worker replied.

"Call the lift," Mau'te said.

The worker tapped the lift control with is security pin.

"Go on about your business," Mau'te said.

"Excuse me," the worker said. "I need to get back to work."

Mau'te and Vette entered the lift, and Vette pushed one of the floor buttons.

"I thought that was a Jedi thing," Vette said.

"Jedi use it more often," he said. "But we're capable of it. It has quite a few uses, in fact."

"I'll bet," Vette said.

He gave her a sour look. "Some enjoy that fetish, but I have never needed it."

They reached Ter'viro's floor, and stealth and mind trick got them to the door unnoticed.

Mau'te put a hand on the door and said, "It's just them."

They found Ter'viro in bed, his feet hanging over the end. His back and sides were covered with light bandages. Mako sat next to the bed, scowling at Ter'viro.

"You shouldn't be here," Ter'viro said.

"We weren't noticed," Mau'te replied.

Mako slapped Ter'viro's shoulder and said, "Dummy."

"What happened?" Vette asked.

"Force lightening," Mau'te said. "Not much power to it or much accuracy. He got lucky."

"We won," Ter'viro said.

"I know," Mau'te said. "Brought her back alive. The Admiral has been complaining about his daughter all day. He won't say how he got her back, but he won't talk about anything else. Congratulations. You made a very powerful man very happy."

Ter'viro shrugged.

Mako slapped Ter'viro's shoulder again and said, "Dummy." She shook the sting out of her fingers.

"Mako?" Vette said.

"Do you know what he did?" Mako said.

"You jumped in front of the lightening, didn't you?" Mau'te said to Ter'viro.

Ter'viro shrugged.

"Why did you do that?" Mako said.

"I had more armor," Ter'viro said.

"I had armor. Some armor. Enough armor. He said it wasn't that powerful. I could have taken it. I'm your partner. You're not supposed to do that." Mako scowled at him again.

Ter'viro shrugged.

Mau'te sighed. "I thought you learned your lesson after the yarra pups." Vette and Mako looked at Mau'te. "It's how he got the scar on his jaw."

Mako said, "You said that was a knife from a bounty."

Ter'viro said, "Sounded cooler."

"No," Mau'te said. "A very enthusiastic yarra pup."

Ter'viro shrugged. "I saved Nina."

"You did not save Nina," Mau'te replied. "His older sister Nin'nussil. She's always had more sense and more agility. It never would have gotten near her."

"Yeah," Ter'viro said. "Probably."

"Dummy," Mako said and slapped Ter'viro's shoulder again.

Mau'te held in a smile and said, "We should go. I wanted to make sure you were all right. Obviously, you are and in excellent hands."

"Just so you know," Mako said. "I'm going to keep hitting him."

"You're hitting me?" Ter'viro said.

"Yes, I'm hitting you." Mako slapped his shoulder again.

Ter'viro said, "Oh, that's what that was."

"Yeah, that's what that was," Mako said. "So, don't do that again."

"It worked," Ter'viro said.

"I don't care," Mako said.

Mau'te and Vette looked at each other and left quietly. They heard Mako through the door, still ranting and the two of them nearly burst out laughing. They held it in until Vette's stealth got them to a different lift, then they laughed for a dozen floors.

"I like her," Mau'te said.

"I like your cousin," Vette replied.

"For him or what he did?"

"Both," Vette said. "I just hope Mako doesn't scare him off."

" _Scare_ him?" Mau'te said.

"Mako can be scary sometimes."

"No," he said. "Ter'viro's mother is scary. Mako's a kitten."

"Oh," Vette said with a smile. "Now I really like him."

"Good job getting us in, by the way," Mau'te said. "You're as skilled as you said."

"I thought I proved that."

He shook his head. "Most places won't be like the tomb. You've given me more valuable proof."

"I might faint from the compliments," she said.

"I'll catch you."

"I've recovered." She looked away from him and pushed her thoughts down. Way, way down.

 

* * *

 

Four hours later, Mako still sat next to Ter'viro, scowling as he slept.

"Dummy," she whispered.

A Twi'lek nurse entered, so quietly Mako almost didn't hear her. She checked Ter'viro's vitals and put a hand on Mako's shoulder.

"Visiting hours are over," the nurse whispered. "It's all right. He'll be released tomorrow."

Mako nodded and stood up.

"If he wakes up, tell him he's a dummy," she said.

"I will, miss," the nurse replied.

Mako left quietly.

The agent watched Mako leave, shook her head, and held in a laugh. She leaned over Ter'viro, whispered, "You dumbass," kissed his forehead, and left him to sleep.


End file.
